I would like to read some eclectic poems, and also
some poems from this new volume Way Out in the Centre.
I'd like to begin with some very early poems.
In fact, a poem I wrote when I was a medical student.
I happen to be a doctor, so that means
at one time I was a medical student, which
was a long time ago.
And in fact, I wrote this poem in the 40s, not
such a long time after the bomb had been dropped
in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
And the Soviet Russia and America were in very--
at the time, very belligerent postures as some of you
may think they are now.
And just as some of you may be worried
about a nuclear holocaust now, I certainly
and many other people were then.
So this is a very simple political parable,
in which I use the strategy of an English folk song, Ten Green
Bottles.
I know it says, ten green bottles hanging on the wall.
If one green bottle should accidentally fall,
then there'd be nine green bottles hanging on the wall.
And if one green bottle--
and it goes down, eight, seven, six, five.
There is a story of a deserted island, where five men walked
down to the bay.
The story of this island is there are
three men with two men slain.
Three men dug two graves in the sand.
Three men stood on the sea wet rock, three shadows moved away.
There is this story of a deserted island, where three
men walked down to the bay.
The story of this island is there
are two men with one man slain.
Two men dug one grave in the sand, two men
stood on the sea wet rock.
Two shadows moved away.
There is a story of a deserted island, where
two men walked down to the bay.
The story of this island is there's
one man with one man slain.
One man dug one grave in the sand,
one man stood on the sea wet rock.
One shadow moved away.
There is this story of a deserted island, where four
ghosts walked down to the bay.
The story of this island is there are
four ghosts with one man slain.
Four ghosts dug one grave in the sand.
Four ghosts stood on the sea wet rock, five ghosts moved away.