The sea slurps beneath the wooden slats, near the bobbing boats, little masts and care-worn flags. Crates of fish come up – hefted on swollen muscle; grey and white flesh slick with the sea, mouths open too late; jagged on lines. The gulls have come – red sea legs and tiny eyes watching – always…
Month: February 2018
mervyn
mervyn merv worked in grey lynn in the shoe factory his job in the storeroom turning big uneven pieces of leather back and forth in mind on the wooden table to count out see clearly just how many uppers the flattened spread of the upper part of the shoe could be cut from one such…
the doctor will see you now, Mr Lazarus
tonight, rain; the white flap of pages turned; the winding of the stairs when to sleep of this, the roar wheels. of sea. so wild to think it. begin to understand. a place to go/ crave/ to hold the still beating heart. 2 Horror. Slept 9 hours. Rib cracked, head…
Prickly Little Creatures
I typed ‘hedgehog into Google to find facts about them so I could write this poem. Links kept leading to more links. Pulling faces at my screen and sticking out my tongue in disgust, I was feeling disappointed and about to give up. Clicking one more link I finally found useful information. Hedgehogs have slow…
Curtain
You might trace the eye-sockets of enemies settled in the folds; curious samples of feet – the duck or elephant tramping off the hem of the cliff. I loathe a modern home set to cream on cream; a sterile soap pinching corners; eyes have no place to comb. I like these…
Sunday Float
Hungry for this seal at the ears, I roll in the pool. It’s long since I shut you out, tipped my face to the sky and swooned. I hear the dry spheres of my breath. Only, under me: the avalanche aisles sweep; and the graze of the whale, less ethereal in the…
war
What do you do when your arm’s torn off. Your mother’s fucked or your son’s made to suck your cock? What do you do? Because: this will happen to you, even if you live in America.
on organised religion
Christian, muslim, jew – god is (let us grant it) but not how you mean it. Is perhaps but as an abstract, not a real person, a prime mover, an architect, actor, an interested party; a master of history traversing the linear time-line from zero to eternity. There’s no such god. When I was…