Eos ~ three short poems

 

beauty is invented over and over again

and what do we do with it? I’m chilled,

but Eos is always worth a song and more

 

Eos doesn’t want me to suspend disbelief

Eos doesn’t want me to forget histories

Eos doesn’t want me to take photographs

Eos doesn’t want me to write poems

Eos won’t let me blank anything to hand

Eos wants to rewild my mind

 

Eos is a cult classic, her performance

way beyond breakfast’s neediness. I walk

beside her ignoring rumours due divine

and when her brother appears, sunlight spreads

like butter over empty beaches from Bundagen

Headland in the north to Arakoon in the south