Roddy Williams – The Atheist Poet

My New Eye (2010)

This eye can squint the secrets of a rose;
zooming in to scan its architecture;
struts, buttresses and gravid walls exhumed
from where they were buried like shame beneath
high gloss, romance and our painted fictions.

Here are rivers, creeks and tributaries
sweeping slopes of tesselated granite
grim basalt ribs, vaulting to the distance.
Force blitzes around this cathedral in
arcs and arabesques of tone and texture

and yet, the rot is starting even now.
Entropy spouts dogma from the gargoyles.
Blight creeps like twilight across the transept.
The head dips, crisping, forgetting the light.


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