The Lodger

By Fiona Sampson b. 1963 Fiona Sampson
You could figure it as a trapdoor,
blur of hinge and
into the unconscious of this stranger
moving around your garden like a trap—
making all the greens unstable
as the warble of nausea come bang up to greet you.
Bang to rights
is how he'd like to have your house. Cuckoo,
wool-wearing garden-dweller,
new-age Salvationist, holy among your cow-parsley
and roses.
               Meanwhile, the unaccustomed heat.
Meanwhile, a sky tunnelling upward—
sense of proportion—golden section   
of elder hedge; then the disgraceful paddock gone wild.

Source: Poetry (December 2007).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2007 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2007
 Fiona  Sampson


Fiona Sampsonwas born in London and trained as a violinist. Her early musical studies and professional career as a musician in Europe influenced her editing and writing. She studied at Oxford University and received a PhD in the philosophy of language from Nijmegen University in the Netherlands. Her poetry collections include Folding the Real (2001); The Distance Between Us (2005), a novel in verse; Common Prayer (2007); and . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Relationships, Friends & Enemies, Home Life, Nature, Landscapes & Pastorals

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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