The Stations Of The Moth

10/14/10

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Where were you when the lights went out?
On the broken shores of sleep, a little fish,
the sea like cold jam, up to my thighs in it.

And the night? An inexplicable bruise,
the trip-wire night to the trapdoor years,
the old coin of moon down, the dark spiraling,
a pharaoh’s curse, like the blood of the lamb.

Your dreams? At each breath we lose a number,
some to salt, to war, to ruin;
their quiet sweep through the walls and water.
As if? As if a body in the bed.

And, like any path, a dream just ends —
I awoke to a Big Door slamming, the sky
flushed with acid-orange, the ants roaring.





Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician, came to poetry late but has enjoyed a large number of publications in the past 10 years, recently gaining airplay for his poems and songs in the U.K., Australia and the U.S.A. The So-Called Sonnets, is his first book, which this audio poem is an excerpt from. More information can be found on his website: bpmcrae.com.