Blog | Received and Recommended |
Just got in from Peter Riley Books Charles Madge’s Selected Poems (Anvil, 1994).
Madge (1912–1996) was an interesting, but uneven poet. I’ve been fascinated by his work since coming across it in Kenneth Rexroth’s old anthology of British poets. Here’s an example from 1937:
The Birds of Tin
The birds of tin
We cannot eat.
We play with them
They cost us nothing
The birds of tin
Municipal
They fly, they float
They wave to us
From far away
They come to rest
Perfectly flat
medals
Of innumerable sizes
On the surface of the sea.
Some are enormously large
Some are six feet high
Some you can hold
Some you can put in your mouth
Some slip through your fingers
And there are microscopic
tiny birds.
In vain we speak to them
In vain we call to them
Or entreat them to open their wings.
They are affixed to walls
Pinned to the sky
attached by screws
Tied by chains
The birds of tin
Are dead.
