War Poetry

[elegia.livejournal.com]

War Poetry

The class has dropped its books. The janitor's
disturbed some wasps, broomed the nest
straight off the roof. It lies outside, exotic
as a fallen planet, a burst city of the poor;
its newsprint halls, its ashen, tiny rooms
all open to the air. The insects' buzz
is low-key as a smart machine. They group,
regroup, in stacks and coils, advance
and cross like pulsing points on radar screens.

And though the boys have shaven heads
and football strips, and would, they swear,
enlist at once, given half a chance,
march down Owen's darkening lanes
to join the lads and stuff the Boche -
they don't rush out to pike the nest,
or lap the yard with grapeshot faces.
They watch the wasps through the glass,
silently, abashed, the way we all watch war.

Kate Clanchy

(Also posted in my journal, but I thought it would be appropriate here.)

Comments

[mehinda.livejournal.com]

Wow. Excellent!

[elegia.livejournal.com]

You are welcome :)

[elegia.livejournal.com]

I don't know her work that well, just that she has gained some very positive reviews, although this one is less flattering:

http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/magazine/record.asp?id=12161

Of course reviews can't compare to actually reading the stuff, and what I have read of her is technically accomplished and quietly clever.

There's three more of her poems-
http://www.poetrysociety.org.uk/review/pr93-3/clanchy.htm

[pachamama.livejournal.com]

I think she's great! Her collection Newborn is one of my favourites.