Iron Rain

Les Wicks


Lightly go to each abyss

I am your country

just by being here

the weaponry of smiles

that handshake bear trap.


“Our people” are more complicated nowadays

with children as strangers &

BFFs in Iceland…

but somehow still the same.

Beauty is embedded in my spine.

I have learnt to embrace the shards

that make up each human transaction.


There is war, always contemporary & refreshing.

As we march towards certain defeat

we leave behind the neuroses & debts –

the daub that plasters

what we thought was shelter.

It’s instinctual, shaking out the shit,

no more choice than

the mutton bird migration

or a cuckoo’s thieving.


David debates whether we are pack or herd.

To engage you must obfuscate.

To be true is ridiculous, all those rules

were written down

the book was banned

but I remember the word restoration.


Les Wicks has toured widely and seen publication in over 350 different magazines, anthologies & newspapers across 28 countries in 13 languages. His 13th book of poetry is Getting By    Not Fitting In (Island, 2016).

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