The Council of Girls

Poem By Sam Riviere

Today I stand before you
uncertain of my guilt
of what I am accused
or should say sorry for
your eyes are screwed
like knots in wood
filled with the suggestive quiet
of trees gossiping telepathically
maybe it would help
if I recited in an irish accent
or sang a little song
your faces grow more beautiful
as I am wired to the lie detector
crueller yet more pitying
I see there are hundreds of texts
to be read out and correlated
and I am happy to help as best I can
clear up this confusion
clarify and analyse the things I said
while drunk I speak to you
without the hope of mercy
you are everything to me
I kneel on the ground from which
you sprung
my jury of sunflowers

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