Thursday, February 23, 2012

Be Overlong

Be overlong
pressing, gleeful

Just try once.

Flail and pounce
the shallow waters,
the deep is waiting

Friday, February 17, 2012

After All

I am interested in what you left in the drawer
I want to know about your hidden box of paints
Could we talk about how you completed your education?
We might go on about your many rings and your rain-coats.
It will be fine as long as you keep talking.

The things you don’t like are all interesting to me.

Your broken guitar still has strings – steel ones.
Your weather-beaten purse still holds a coin in its lower fold.
Inside your wardrobe linger your old dresses,
which you wore to merry parties and stood and
smiled and passed the drinks to your guests,
who thought your house was bigger than
they would buy for their daughters.

In a little while, your alarm clock might ring,
shaking you out of your stance and sleep,
putting you back on the merry-go-round,
in the middle of the sunlit yard of the clown-show
with all its little silly boys crowding around.

You haven’t told me your gardening secrets.
How do you grow the roses, how do they
come out so plump, when the water in your
locality has too much calcium, and your fingers
are not long enough for digging deep trenches.

Tomorrow I am coming to dinner,
I want to eat in a broken plate,
and have a large cracked bowl by my side,
so the soup flows on to the table,
and brands the tablecloth with the colour
of the afternoon, and our conversation,
and your many returns to the subject of my choice,
and the light lands on your eyes,
and illuminates how your roses went wild,
in their last season how they found a new smell,
and how your car veered off the bridge
in the middle of your tuneless song.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

In Death

you will always remember me as a smiling carcass
baring my teeth with sincerity
skull polished with silver balm
ears in perfect shape
stench coiling into your nose
fibrous tarnished cold feet
illuminating eye-holes.

you bend forward and
kiss my lips of bone
and puke into my inner reserves
and dream about my bursting body
tissue carved from heaven.