Questa

Who forgets generous acts, standing by an unlit lamp, drawing fire, watching ships, are those who give always first, waiting for a scan, measured by horizons, does my husband's laughs, need a tree, a bridge, a candle, to rattle around our pan, send us money by post, we’re jobless on the tramp, throw salt at our ghosts, decant us like the sacrosanct, stamp the Catholic stamp, drunk do not let us sag, tell us to get lost, spit saliva on our plans, for you the baptised hosts, always give what you can.