Gedicht
John Burnside
Blues
Blues
Blues
It’s moments like thiswhen the barman goes through the back
and leaves me alone
a radio whispering
somewhere amongst the glasses
- I’m through with love -
the way the traffic slows
to nothing
how all of a sudden
at three in the afternoon
the evening’s already begun
a nascent
dimming.
By ten I’ll be walking away
on Union Street
or crossing Commercial Road
in a gust of rain
and everyone who passes
will be you
or almost you
before it’s someone else.
© 2000, John Burnside
From: The Asylum Dance
Publisher: Cape, London
From: The Asylum Dance
Publisher: Cape, London
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Blues
It’s moments like thiswhen the barman goes through the back
and leaves me alone
a radio whispering
somewhere amongst the glasses
- I’m through with love -
the way the traffic slows
to nothing
how all of a sudden
at three in the afternoon
the evening’s already begun
a nascent
dimming.
By ten I’ll be walking away
on Union Street
or crossing Commercial Road
in a gust of rain
and everyone who passes
will be you
or almost you
before it’s someone else.
From: The Asylum Dance
Blues
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