C K Stead – Poem
Unusual Obsequies for Nicholas Tarling who died swimming In Shallowsleep, that life-of-the-mind that comes at three or four a.m., hearing big rain beat on the roof and spill from broken gutter to concrete path, and quoting to myself (faultlessly) a sonnet of a single sentence and great complexity by Willie Yeats, I promised I would call that comic-strip tradesman I had named, just to amuse you, Gutterfix. It was the day we’d buried Nick, historian, daily dipper, opera aficionado with song and stories of his gloomy wit. “Come to our aid, great Gutterfix” I sang in my opera voice, and
___________________________________________________________________This content is restricted to subscribers.
If you are an existing subscriber, please login. If you would like to subscribe to NZ Books: A Quarterly Review, find out more here
Tagged with: Issue 123
, Spring 2018
Posted in Poem