Free Fall
by Thomas Kinsella
I was falling helpless in a shower of waste,
reaching my arms out toward the others
falling in disorder everywhere around me.
At the last instant,
approaching the surface,
the fall slowed suddenly,
and we were all
unconcerned,
regarding one another in approval.
The Force of Eloquence
by Thomas Kinsella
The brink of living is inhabited.
Unbrooding as an ox, he thrusts a bald
Muscular head out smiling. Though his tongue
Chains are fastened, radii of gold.
Gently hauled by these, his swayed captives
Yield their wrists in lithe angles of peace
– A charmed plight, halted in faint relief
Against a line of hills full of quaint promise.
A token of bronze, long out currency,
Vivifies an impossible worn world,
Of speech constricted into other terms:
An equilibrium of gift and threat
Moulded in external breathless appearance.
Enter, and inhale the living bronze.
Fourteen Lines 