Macbeth's Head

How beautiful and unexpected it was

To wake and see the snow

Butterflying in through the open window,

Sand-dune drifting towards his feet,

Blanketing his room

Covering his heirlooms

And scattened things, all smashed up and sad

He felt so glad that they were gone

But still there beneath the snow.

With Macbeth's clay-red arm around his neck,

He said- ' remember...don't forget where you are...

you're with me-'

His clay-red arm like the muddy river

That rambles through the reeking town

Reaching for the sea.

Macbeth's head

Full of clover and the town below

Unaware of the time and the silent snow.

Macbeth's head

Full of barking dogs

The churis in rags, their cloaks

The heads of stags clashing antlers...

Their cloaks billowing down

The silvery hills of sleep.

Macbeth's head

Blows a silver horn of dented stars

Across the misty heath

But, 'come back' he couldn't say.

Macbeth's head

In the emerald eyes of dark women

Barefoot on the wharf,

The north winds sing-song singing

Through the gorse.

Macbeth's head

Down in the streets below

Blissfully unaware of the virgin snow

His purple tongue locked inside his mouth

Shouting drunken at the cloads

And a voice echoes through the landslide town

Beneath the bracelet bridge...

Macbeth's arm tenses round his neck-

Don't forget, don't forget.

Macbeth's head

Full of the smell of stone.

Falls from the satin sky

His closed eyes

His eyelids open...

Macbeth's arm tenses round his neck-

...Don't forget.,

Don't forget.

And how beautiful and unexpected it was

To wake and see the snow.