Poem: Kurt Vonnegut – InDaily


One icon is seen against the setting of another in the week The poets’ corner contribution by Paul Turley.

Kurt Vonnegut

For all I know,
Kurt Vonnegut
never seen Uluru.
On the day of his death,
At New York,
probably squint
in a cloud of
Pall Mall smoke,
I squinted
in front of
that huge desert stone.
Everything was fiery red
in the last minutes
of the day.

Some Germans
who were there too,
look beside
their rental motorhome,
got the news of his death
on their radio.
They had never heard
by M. Vonnegut
although they were
from Dresden,
the city where
he crouched
and became a novelist.
This illuminated place
all fiery red
in the last minutes
of the war.

Paul Turley was born in Wales and raised mainly in Adelaide, where he lives again after several years in Europe and the United States. Graduated with an MA in Philosophy from the Department of English and Creative Writing at the University of Adelaide and initiated the inclusion of poetry readings at the magnificent McLaren Vale Serafino Wines Festival 2014, he writes poetry, in part, “to make him pay attention to the little bits of life.”

Original and unpublished poems from readers up to 40 lines can be sent by email, with postal address, to [email protected] Submissions should appear in the body of the email, not as attachments. A book of poetry will be given to each accepted contributor.

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