Billy Childish

Nicolas Roerich, Himalaya-White Mountains

Billy Childish, Erupting Volcano Chile, courtesy Lehmann Maupin Gallery

your golden hair

that hot still summers
day
when we swam out
till a half mile off shore
then let the slowly
incoming tide carry us
back shoreward

and
we noticed hundreds of
tiny spyders
thousands of them
walking the surffiss
tension
only being capsised
by the ripples we made
whilest treading water

it dosnt seam much now
but back then it did
it seemed like a
miricle

and
the 20 or so i saved
lifted by my wet fingers
to your golden hair
that way
to reach land

the uncorrected
billy chyldish: selected poems.
failure books, 2010