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Sport 40: 2012

Just a moment, please

page 381

Just a moment, please

There are so many angels,
their wings stiffly hinged, their hands joined like steeples.
There are so many apples
but only one is a great big fat gorgeous Peasgood Nonsuch.
Put it on the white plate with the thin gold trim.
Put the plate on the white iron table,
the little round table that sits under the quince tree.
We don’t need the pucker and slip of a tablecloth.
We don’t need feathery explosions of lanyards. But we may
need the angels (their long white nighties stirring in the aisles of the cella).
And we definitely need the apple.
‘I yearn to be transformed,’ says Rafe, ‘by something more than sex.’