3 ———————————————— A year I watched a woman disappear each week the light a little more unclear her eyes I saw a little more of Less each time; knew the husband-kind a stranger at her side, driving arm, the hand he put the ring upon her finger, with the coin to pay the tollbooth operator—which…
Tag: time & memory
from Blank Notime Pre-Cortex Lands
2 ———————————————— tough & happy, crystal eyes ruled thirty years the public courts swooped across the competition ladder, lifted, in her power serve grunted out the backhand, the unflinching doubles net game hydraulic smooth pivot in her netball golfing well as men, driving Drinkers’ drinkers home in cold conditions as the Past dissolve, in the…
Lament # 1
unable to watch; your tax used, your txt and browser history stored, in the cold, indefinitely the abyss is on the catwalks, and all the Past is kept as landmarks. I yearn to make mistakes again, to wake on someones couch. or arm, and not know where I am. no maps to get me home…
Toy Otalogo
I came across the book in the corner of a second hand shop old enough the stone step in had a concave scallop. And then from my home, from same but wooden, scalloped step in where the cat lays outside head propped on a mossy rock on top of the daffodils, it became in the…
Loops
it bangs on all day and we’re shown something similar the next night, so familiar and repetitive is the footage in the valleys Yugoslavia as War appals unchanged that I feel as loose & nowhere as the displaced peoples leaving with their favourite tools and fork sets, the carpets, their rolled up children with faces like lace curtains, dodging…
la fine dell’amore
He was sworn against divorce, While she had had two marriages already. They were together for only eight years. In his seventh decade he gave her a scooter. She accepted, and rode around on it, Through the mountain roads of Italy, Floral dress, light shoes, Half-dome helmet, no lipstick. Just like in a festival film!…
PreReversion
I’d been using tasteless opioid downers for painting abstracts and when they ran out I extracted the poppy from the pain -killer, the power from the -cetamol and the spoon almost stands in the coffee. So when I picked up one of his books, a posthumous reissue from the enviable place of continuous readership it…
Remembering Waste
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 …
3 Poems Which Aren’t Entirely Sure
1 In the slackened-off momentum of a Holy day, the Machine left to idle, I put on someone else’s shoes, wore unfamiliar clothing, styled my hair a way I’m not accustomed, found the walk, in the shoe, and allowed that through, limb and thought. Then put that self to walk, at the rural fringe suburban,…
from Short March Walkabout #2
I’d misread the map and got off at the wrong station. it had an elevation which satisfied my sitting out the morning watching the trains leaving squealing into fog lit spectacularly; a lady crying, a barking dog, a shopping trolly shepherd in a hiViz, humming wires clicking above the tracks bolted into place on cloud-coloured…
Memories Etched
I, too, have journeyed to green and envious, Unknown rocks. In cloaks, boots, and with daggers, So that funerals rung out the sound Of those defeated, rumored armies. Far off in dusk we must in a lonesome past… But where have you gone? Wherefore you go? Will you drop out? Or stick in thick…
from GIBO
5 thoughts of death sit on my mind the snow weight on the beech boughs and the Pine needle arms, dripping white water to the wild roses, you can interpret it, any way, you want the crunch of snow, dissolving under foot, the dormant stumps of bald blade, the old man’s’ beard, and vines, offering,…