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.