Man with Pigs
My name was Legion, ha,
yes
we were many, and
gashed our heads
on those gravestones.
Didn't know what we really wanted -
(lurching to greet the
True Man, as his fans called him,
and shouting at the same time:
'Go Away!')
- Such violence to my real self
(he told me);
such fear which tossed me
tomb to tomb.
... But since the pigs have drowned,
I limp towards my own cliff.
More poetry by James Charlton
Reviews of James Charlton's poetry
Anne Kellas, reviewing Luminous Bodies
David Kelly, reviewing So Much Light
(and Stephen Edgar's History of the Day)