Tuesday, June 14, 2011



 it is not a tool chest which afflicts me –

not a bench vise

jaws or spanner

not a claw-hammer

auger or awl

neither pliers nor tinsnips

no spiral-ratchet Yankee screwdriver

no nail gun

no drill     

it is only the thrum of blood

in temples, jaw and neck

which threatens my peace



Dave King said...

For me the former items have been known to cause the latter - or perhaps that's what you meant?

Either way I greatly enjoyed the poem, it had a certain Chinese feel to it I thought. And a touch of ambiguity is never a bad thing. A fine post, indeed.

jabblog said...

Just the sight of those tools set me afire - but I do sympathise. Aromatherapy? Massage? A change to another country? (sorry!!)