Something took form (Alison Murray)

Verity La Heightened Talk, Visual Poetry

 
in Narbonne
 
I listened to a cat scratch of claws
 
on a tiled roof,
 
a storm, the cathedral bells.
 
 
 
The death of Rimbaud
 
went unnoticed
 
by the good people of Marseille
 
at the Hôpital de la Conception
 
the taxi driver grudgingly
 
took my black-eyed cheque home.
 
 
 
Two dozen oysters opened
 
into breathless mouths
 
at the type of wedding breakfast
 
so unfashionable, nowadays.
 
 
 
No-one put their hands to my face
 
No-one placed a lit cigarette in their mouth
 
smiled
 
and went back to their book.