Poetry

The war that so many would like to forget, and so many othersrefuse to remember. Thank you for the relief, the rest,for leaving only palimpsestand a little rolled orange eraser dust,and not the xxxxx of a stitched-up wound,when you came to do what erasers do.The way you rubbed out, in one wide swath,the memory of…

Plaintive 1 They asked me, “what do you think ofthe smell of money, the smell of a womanand the smell of the sea?” I held firm.Night wavered and people were singing.The smell of the sea I know, I said,but I am not an informer. The smellof a woman is my purposeful businessand you and I…

    My objective is never to touch it.    No such thing as a naughty clock, give it    Its head, I say, serve                  The natural tendency to ebb                  And flow…                                            When amplitude                                                                              drops                                                                                                    the clock                                       Starts racing—    Added to which, in winter    Ground water affecting foundations of the tower    Alters the angle the timepiece leans.                  Hair drier works to warm the sensor,                                Enjoy!     Now to anomalies: clock detects    The cleaning lady…

Lord, there are creatures in the understory, snails with whorled backs and silver boots, trails beetles weave in grass, black rivers of ants, unbound ladybugs opening their wings, spotted veils and flame, untamed choirs of banjo-colored crickets and stained-glass cicadas. Lord, how shall we count the snakes and frogs and moths? How shall we love…

A chunk of metal cubed and spat out by a car-crushing baling press, a Ford, twenty years old, seemingly red, last driven by a teenaged girl who failed to check the oil, a gift from a doting grandmother with a terror of squashing squirrels recklessly crossing the road, and drove the car only to church;…

The solace of standing. Early morning light coming in through the small square window discovers my neighbour’s wall to me, the marks of mould and hand and fire on individual bricks, for these are old houses. Something I wanted to say about walking in the park has become an insight of such lucidity that it’s…

That his mind was strange was what they had to tell him That he was well aware of it was the essence of his reply At which point the heavens did what afterwards none could remember Leaving suddenly none with the will to pursue the matter Or that strange-minded person much further into the forest

Happy arrives with the moon on its shoulder. Glamorous. You can tell it has crossed the line by the way it moves, eyes glittering like wet roads in headlights, dangerous and out of control, attention all over the place. It loves the language and talks to strangers, asks your name, looks in your face and…