Monthly Archives: May 2010


To deny all love
Is a network of comfort
For a shaking man

Ten Songs for Children no.5 “The Cities”

A hoarding of timelessness sits with
A voider, a deletion.
A tube in a living-room marries
An Aspidistra, which fingers our residue.

We are the awkward carpenters,
Convex geometrists
Poring over the graphology of ennui;
Batchelors before art.

Cities sink into their beds,
Silt washes
A million crackling palms
Scoop away the splinters, kids.

Joseph still can’t believe his luck –
Sharpening knives is simpler here.
Coathangers slip quickly
Inside the wives of the riverbed.

(Static creeps –
Deliverence, flash twice.)

We are the asphalt-tonguing
Scaremongers, and
Crows can’t help but
Tear our twice¬-torn clothes right off.

Change the channel, and
Suddenly, we are old.

Ten songs for children no. 3 “The Summer”

We’re quick to forget the winter, see
March grow up, fill out
Gaping maw of rowed-out teeth
Only a week and a half back, now
A grey pan-handled woman scritching –
“Gash that evening gaze! It curls
Nip-lock heat bites skin”- and
“Quick, black fish! Huddle slick and tight
And take your pick from my feet!”
Hemlines creep, a guignol curtain
Your thighs
Are not those of last summer, those
Spreading Charleville trees.
Turn the oysters in their beds and
Soak them in cider, girl.
We’re too quick to lose the winter,
March is butchered, dried and hung
While a hundred children kick the heads
Off a hundred thousand forget-me-nots.
Suddenly, we are cold.
Suddenly, we are old.