Tuesday, 2 May 2017

An ode to Love

Tar stretches like a bed.
In the vacant lot, letters burn:

The breath of barking dogs
by the sharp headed rocks.
A brittle rope dangling.
You slip, I laugh.

Teeth of neon green, eyes lovingly.
Arms around my neck, teaching me to dance.
After twelve the lights go out.
He leaves an open door
and quiet by the side of the road.

Monday, 10 April 2017


Drunkard at the door, mother isn't home.
Pedophile is hysterical.
Cockroach ashtray couch,
methadone bloodstream, man.

Policeman at the door, mother may I marry him?
push his wheelchair through the mall,
feeding him insulin,
round and around..

Stomach turns again, clinging to the bed.
Stealing glances at yourself, mother isn't having it.
Your staying in all season round.

The day had a hole in it

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

Against the wall

I prefer the shade,
when no-one's looking.
Put me in the corner;
hands between plates,
a newspaper.

Upon the mantle,
a hardy bunch;
stalk kept straight,
mulched and wet,
yet so loose, almost collapsing.

Next to a cabinet: three animal masks
mounted on the dining room wall;
the winding hall and then the door.

Thursday, 29 December 2016


Mothertongues guarding christmass-rose beds
Heads struck songless, pictures without souls.
Birdbeaks, bird eyes; curious and alone.
Feed a fly watching the meat you carry,
Hurry, hurry along.