their name
rings out in the dust
of the library
rings
and you are ready
with a silver tray
a small, wet mound of sugar
that cowers in the bowl
rings - you must come quickly
polish the silver
until you're polishing yourself
wiping tight, bright circles
round the mouth
it rings
in the study where you place the tray
in the still archives
where sandstone sifts
from the columns
where pidgeons snap
in the rafters
it rings
and the air aches
blue and thin
have you ever torn a poster down?
lost something on purpose?
a ring
it was their name