found poetry

Excerpt from The Journal of a Disappointed Man by W.N.P. Barbellion; a short entry that reads like a poem to me.

On Lundy Island

Frankie is blowing Seagulls’ eggs in the scullery. His father, after a day’s work at the farm, is at his supper very hungry, yet immensely interested, and calls out occasionally, —

“‘Ow you’re getting on, Foreman?’

‘All right, Capt.,'” says Frankie affectionately, and the unpleasant asthmatic, wheezy noise of the egg-blowing goes on…There are three dogs asleep under the kitchen table; all three belong to different owners and neither one to A–.

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