A Rainwashed Notebook

It is a book of poems. Here is a sample:

A Talkative Saint who Lived in a Hedge

He was caught up in what he did

and he couldn't do enough of it

and he did it all the time.

He would talk about it to anyone

even if they told him they couldn't understand a word of it

and didn't want to listen

and he wouldn't stop.

He would run after you to tell you

that the thing he told you yesterday

although not incorrect

was not what he meant at the time.

Walking from Penzance to Newlyn,

to buy a fish or two,

it would be quicker some people said to go by Lamorna,

avoiding him in his place in the hedge.

He was not St. Cuby.

He was not St. Caradoc.

And he was not St. Erth.

Where he came from:

some say he paddled over from Ireland

in a wooden washtub

with the purpose of getting away from himself.

But he would tell you e

ven if that was a true story

it was about someone else.

People missed him when he was gone.

They would now and then stop

by his place in the hedge

and wait for a while,

as if they expected something,

even fairly sensible people.