John Tustin

Misery is a Blue Mountain

Misery is a blue mountain
And black water runs putrid
Along her sides.
The birds who nest along her walls
Smack their smudged wings together
And their birdsong is derisive laughter
And the word No.

The sun never appears.
The rain never arrives.
Her body is weeds and mud.
You will not smile
And you will not cry.
You will stare into her face
And she will not acknowledge you.

Helpless and immobile
Before this impossible blue mountain
With putrid black water
Gargling down always
Along her sick sides

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