Poem: ‘Preserved’
Abi Curtis, 17 March 2005
I: Tollund, after 2000 Years
I found you smoked in the loam, Leathered by the loop of time. Lithe earthling. Bog-bottled.
I turned out the tissues of your paunch To view your last meal. Perhaps you ate it when he did; You, west of Silkeborg, roped then swallowed Into the umber of the Jutland. He, a stone’s throw from Gethsemane, raised to the wind. He crumbled bread, while your crumbled...
