This everlasting refill cup
On which you wrote my name
Emptied now and again filled up
Yet somehow still the same
Is not quite the same as we are
Who only grow more strong
Now this cup is a fading star
Which might not shine too long
I like my coffee now and then
But much prefer the taste
Of family on mornings when
This cup has run its course and gone
Into recycled waste:
The family goes on
They say it is corporate anyway
Even though I get my coffee so cheap
But I never listen to what they say
And I never have time to talk that fast
Their ears are too shallow to hear too deep:
Our paper cups wear out our families last
Though everlasting might not be
We always have right now
Which temporary you and me
Know how to do somehow
If temporarily:
The family goes on
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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