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