David Dunseith

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In escaping from a box he was imprisoned in the radio.

Alone and exposed.

As punishment, crowds threw tomatoes, heavy stones, their troubles.

Being a vegetarian he made a Moroccan salad,

being a stonebreaker he interviewed the igneous hardmen,

revealed the metamorphosized victims ,

undermined the sedimentary institutions;

but being David Dunseith he co-ordinated their fragment of the troubles

adding the dimensions of myth and history.

In honour we threw laurel wreaths,

and crowds more tomatoes, heavy stones, troubles and respect;

remember thou art mortal.

“But let’s not get side tracked.”

A funeral wreath, immortal

David Dunseith, may he rest in peace.

All teased out.
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