Thursday, 19 May 2016

poem in which we're both ornamental conifers

Receding
along

the
hair
on your
toes,

sun
washed the bank
rather late.

We were waiting,

between each crick
scribbled
writhing

bugs,

pale
as a dimpling bruise,

thick 
as a smouldered shrug.

Sketching
the surface,
buoyant,

a grin
growing.

roswell

The thing about alien abduction is

you have to stay in bed,
you can't get up to see them,
twisting your neck round
for those
flashing
illegible lines.

Arms wriggle,
retinas roll,
puzzled pirouettes
hit pitch,
lets go up in flames.

Its always at night.

In the stuffed bloated
microfibres
you might stand for water,
but not by the window
where green trees
are now skeletons,

patient little pencils
telling you to go back.

Zip up
russian doll,

and radiate
human.

Thursday, 26 November 2015

tentacles

Loaded with lethal
stings,
actively hunting,
you're deep sci-fi
in sheer silk.

Aeroplanes swirl
closer,
encircle
and evade,
feathering
featureless
white
stone balustrades.

Advantage is
you're fallen
scattered
afraid,
always poised
for the party
and
punctuating gloom.

Swallowing,
plucking,
melting
into the blue,

you grow long
with giant hunger.

Thursday, 8 October 2015

spinner

….In the silence that followed when I took your face and shook you, was afraid,

left,

one of us did with interest and trust feel concern.


Brought it,

dancing, araneidal across the bedsheet.


Knew it,

missed it, struck at it and hit it,

cutting damp,

blinds and their pine trappings.


St Charles

looking, strangely old, lumbering

through

sub tropics, that eternal corner.


I lifted my hand to sap, roll shut the window,

cursing you

in the green canopies, ruffling feathers.


I forgot it was easy,

do I know?


Do I become always wanting,

the same old bars

brought it dancing.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

dead space/exit wound

the moon
eats the sun,

me
& you,

spinning
catatonia

andromina's
spun.

nebula
messier,

expect to collide
in light
palpitation

where you're in full sight.

i’m
wide
on the run,

whipping
up

silent
still
& where.

andromina
nebula
masses
messier,

expect to collide
in light
palpitation
when you're in full sight.

expect to hit
catatonia
sweet 
then sit.


vegas
vega,

i can't
remember.

croupier
kuiper,

ceiling
split.

stick
in my lungs
with
each
undulation,


equulei
equuleus.

i'm champ
you're the bit.


Tuesday, 14 October 2014

grout

red wine sticks
to your flat pulse of
tongue

a messy tile
due to
weathering

exposing time
puckering
wildly flicking
and stuttering.

Sunday, 28 September 2014

the opposite

your hand drops to my chin,

you pull
and tell me to think
think
of
an
apology.

drunk
idiot
drunkness
drunk,

you drink,

i rush
to put up the airbed.
from which

i squeak
like a frankfurther,
egg like a roll,

always need you
in a hard boiled way,

and watch
as you
yolk
wriggle
out of your jeans.