Father Duane on Holiday

by Aidan Andrew Dun

pool 1

 

Sits poolside with gin-and-tonic
piles of novels, parallel lives
heaped up at sandalled feet.

Six-thirty precisely as he reads
with first parched taste of fire
begins that nightlife of imagination

Hypothetical descent into desires
which are, he knows, only mimetic
all modulated by this neck-attire

Worn heroically among the bikinis
the Jesus-boots which openly proclaim:
‘I march broken between the hill-towns

Through sandstorms, spinnings of dust
along the edges of the world, alone
drinking sometimes from roadside wells.

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