The Queen of All Our Yesterdays

A violent scent like lilies atomising Slithers in the rigours of the wake, And snowdrops bright and white beyond the windows Bow their heads as stems prepare to break. There’s a cat that yowls like cancer in the marrow And a swan that chokes asthmatic in the reeds, From the bedroom overlooking all the pond life A light of savage crimson softly bleeds. Like the queen of all our yesterdays exhuming She plays with flesh and bone, death and desire, The ******** of his manhood burnt and shrivelled By her laughter born of ridicule and fire.