Cardinal Cox |
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Cardinal Cox has been having his various writings published in the small-press for over twenty five years. He was the Poet-in-Residence of a local cemetery for three years, though his day job is as a minor cog in the Civil Service. Other incidence include being a failed aspirant to a seat in the House of Lords and television appearances that peaked at 10.2 million viewers (there were less channels in those days). One great-grandfather was a policeman in Whitechapel at the time of Jack the Ripper, a great-uncle learnt Muti from a Sangoma in South Africa in the 1890's. Favourite shoes: Zebra winkle-pickers.
Favourite hat: knitted chicken.
Favourite butchery by-product: black pudding. |
Two Poems (October 25, 2011. Issue 32.) The Magazine of Thrills and Chills In this issue, out this season Reports of sights in the wild Strange illustrations ink and pen Some letters wrote by lonely men Whip-poor-will Mist over the estuary, boats silent, afloat
And distant the foghorn brings a lump to my throat
Above the single stars pick out the sky this night
And I am yet more lonesome than that distant light
Cat upon the sofa, I envy him his peace
Does he, that sleeping beast, think of you in the least?
The wind brings a mournful sound from over the lake
When Hank Williams sang of whippoorwills
you knew a heart would break
Your cocoa mug has been pushed to the cupboard's back
And outside between the bare trees night thickens black
Tonight I've shunned the bar, instead locked tight the door
And where once we walked I hear waves lap on that shore
A wardrobe I'll not open, a bed I'll not touch
In the pantry bread grows dry, I'm not eating much
You're gone from me, the short journey I'll one day take
When Hank Williams sang of whippoorwills
you knew a heart would break |
| The Legendary |