Monthly Archives: November 2010

Waiting

they wait, all huddled close
the king had died again –
life is very long, so kids
pass down your pages
wrapped
in close-cut hair

children arrive
not for long
they know not
what they do

(he came back once, naked and bruised-
She returned a second time.)

The fourth, nobody noticed, except
she left other wakes –
lighter streaks across the streams
where water turns the birds.


Girl on a train

For the second-hand love of this
Black eyed dancer, angled across
The shaking seat
Inches from me, I would snipsnap
Shatter these splintered feet of mine –
Doublecrack them back
The way they were cast
All those years ago, and still
Unable to stand.

Painted eyes and
Ankle chains and
Scented ribbons.
A tented surfeit
Of sensory pains
Your fresh-lip harem
Sits and drops, my face
Holds date-sticky impotence.


poetry (a response)

these imperfections you perceive,
blockades to the left,
putting world to a space between
what you wonder

that on which you fix your gaze –
the colour is unimportant yet
mentioned nonetheless alongside
ordinary musculature

and here is only now, and soon
all things move toward an end –

most unremarkably. Nothing cushioned,
nothing gained

but lines and

a reminder why we don’t write.


Ritual, number 1 – Több

So, thus begins the exhibiting of pieces of visual art created or captured by me. Be kind. This series will (hopefully) come to represent the continuation of unthinking ritualistic practice – the cultural shared understandings which are both innate and synaptic, as well as learned and semiotically significant.


Autumnal fuckery

With methods nicked
From symbolists who hold
A far cleaner claim to dominance
Than any I could uproot

I tie you up
With vegetable slowness
And pinch away
Resistant fibres

Leave you barking, boughed
And sapping quietly –
No fruits of fighting
Hanging down

Your chest is
Not a tree
Knotted and nesting –
‘Cuckoo’. ‘Cuckoo’.

Untangled eggshells,
Dripping dewlip-leaf mould –
I leave you reaching
Unfinished, half-grown.

I am no green man, but
Still I push my face
Through foliage to see
You waiting for the fall.