Marked With D.

Tony Harrison

When the chilled dough of his flesh went in an oven

not unlike those he fuelled all his life,

I thought of his cataracts ablaze with Heaven

and radiant with the sight of his dead wife,

light streaming from his mouth to shape her name,

‘not Florence and not Flo but always Florrie’.

I thought how his cold tongue burst into flame

but only literally, which makes me sorry,

sorry for his sake there’s no Heaven to reach.

I get it all from Earth my daily bread

but he hungered for release from mortal speech

that kept him down, the tongue that weighed like lead.

The baker’s man that no one will see rise

and England made to feel like some dull oaf

is smoke, enough to sting one person’s eyes

and ash (not unlike flour) for one small loaf.

From SELECTED POEMS by Tony Harrison, published by Penguin Books 1987.

Reprinted with permission.





This Article
Extract
FREE Full Text (PDF)
Alert me when this article is cited
Alert me if a correction is posted
Services
Email this article to a friend
Similar articles in this journal
Similar articles in PubMed
Alert me to new issues of the journal
Add to My Personal Archive
Download to citation manager
Request Permissions
Google Scholar
Articles by Harrison, T.
PubMed
PubMed Citation
Articles by Harrison, T.