they came by bus, foot, and taxi, by pram; the celebrators happily in blue sky, oven -baked caucasians in sunshine. a little girl squatting flat-footed on the street outside my apartment lifts her skirt pulls her underpants aside and pisses on the footpath before entering the chapel while the bells tincture lingers and fades like…
Month: November 2019
who put everything out in the garden
give the guy with the horns a chance. fill the void in my heart. let the waters part. take my lands yellow for the sun & blue. cut the heads of all the flowers. unfurled i present the wonderful – michaelangelo, myself as a boy. we are miscible, as gymnast as acrobat. we…
Ridges In His Tears
The farmer is between desperation and sadness There is no moisture left It was drawn out on the wind or taken by heat The grass lost its sheen and then its colour It dried and fluttered in the wind Then it broke The soil can not support itself; it is loose and without form If…
defenestration
1 this should be the 1st word but it’s dropped for affect [sic] f/or maybe not. to despeculate. kill/in- ter In 1 quick – pull the door – fast like you’d slam but do not. death by rope not short enuf. the madness born frm what you can’t…
Final Rush of Wings
He will not go out again. His bed now is his chair. There is no need to rise or prepare for slumber. It comes readily, the lids lower on the day before a dim screen. It was not meant to be like this, breath searching for a way in and out He will not eat…
Old Gig Road
No one goes up Old Gig Road. It leads to a siding. Rotted timber hangs over its edge. A century ago, women in bonnets alighted. A rail track curled up from the town. There was a stationmaster, smart in black. He wore a waistcoat, a watch on a chain. Much was planned: a town, great…
pillow
it’s still possible to be cool but our chances are limited. we could fall in a day at the lake stroke the dirty water. if the sky hollows & the bees we’re dreaming, sorrowed some cymbal what’s missed & it can’t come back but where was i when…
Saint Christopher
I was reading about St Christopher when I took a call from my Ma. A message from my Uncle. Please get in touch regarding his euthanasia. Dear Uncle. I detest your position but I respect your decision. I wish you’d stay. That’s my selfishness. A world away. What right is mine to even…