Kevin Reid - One Poem

Beckett's Private Hell

strange
how Beckett merits
unmoved performance.

the design,
a gloomy chamber,
fretful, profound and fresh.

the figure,
a man,
a gammy left leg of long habit.

the portrait,
incarcerated,
weakness grown with hate

a problem actor,
starving,
enables inflection.

his child,
an invisible pipe of irony,
the source of crippling guilt.

Studded,
he undercuts
restless effects,

sacrifices music,
designs a world
without performance.


Kevin Reid lives and works as a librarian in Angus, Scotland. He has a first class MA Hons. in English Literature. He has lived in a various polemic communities in the North East of Scotland. He also lived naked in a tipi community in the Spanish mountains. When not buying or reading books he writes, paints and enjoys the creative magnificence of digital technology. His work has appeared in The Plebian Rag, Eviscerator Heaven, and accepted for The Recusant and next edition of Eleutheria. At present he is working on a collection for his first chapbook.