Two Poems

by Mantz Yorke
Waking, soft-bodied
after making love:
a scritching of pencil
betrays the poem.
I feign sleep, uncertain.
It may be nothing.

Later. 
Who is this other,
and why is the earth
yearning for rain? Deep
in the ocean’s bed,
a shifting. Imperceptible,

the tsunami,
till its enormity
bursts
into the shanty-town
of self, and all
is overwhelmed.

            * * *

Eyes hold
conversation
amid the delegates
and after. I go to bed
and lie awake,
wondering.

In the morning
your poem
beneath the door:
among the devastation
a solitary survivor
picks up

clapboard
and corrugated iron.
Deep in the earth
a rhizome thrusts
upward,
towards the sun.
Mantz Yorke lives in Manchester, England.  His poems have appeared in Butcher’s Dog, Dactyl, Dawntreader, Lunar Poetry, Popshot, Prole, Revival, The Brain of Forgetting and The Stony Thursday Book magazines; and, in e-magazines and anthologies in the UK, Ireland and the United States.

© 2016, Mantz Yorke