Wandering Outside The Temple (revised)

[Billy]

Sitting

Wandering outside the temple
the spine straightens like a snake

entering a hole. Hands limp
in limbo. Waiting for something

that never comes. Breathing
until I don't know I'm breathing.

Invisible cord. A dog barks
in my fenced-in brain.

The sound of a truck
runs over my body.

Now the pain. Walking
through it without legs.

Neither of the sea
nor of the land. Drowning.

Until there is no time for less
than a breath. A bell.



Wandering Outside The Temple

First the spine straightens
like a snake entering a hole.

Hands limp. Useless. Waiting
for something that never comes.

Breathing until I don't know
I'm breathing. Invisible cord.

A dog barks in my fenced-in
brain. The sound of a truck

runs over my body. Now
the pain. Walking through it

without legs. Neither of the sea
nor of the land. Drowning.

Until there is no time. It stops.
For less than a breath. A bell.

[BobBradshaw]

I liked Shail’s reading of this as a poem about a dying man. Ending the poem on “A bell.” reinforces that interpretation. If so, I find it just an excellent poem. That opening image is so extraordinary and apt.

[Billy]

Thanks Bob, I'd rather not explain the poem, don't know if I can anyway, whatever I might say wouldn't be it, anyway.

[FranktheFrank]

I can't make much of it. I accepted Bob's take - a dying man, but now not sure.