The Curse

Tyrone Graham
Jul 20, 2017 · 1 min read

Only a child
is as clear
to God, straight
in speech
— only love
unendearing,
on the terrace
under the jam-tree,
matchstick — and fruit-men
his thwarted expression,
timorous,
of loneliness,
of temerous feeling
— It was there, too,
in the fated shade
of the jam
that he swore
his first and only
curse,
his worst:
God is a bog,
God is a bog,
over and over.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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Tyrone Graham

Written by

In the beginning was the word. And I got paid for it.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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