The Mundane, Sublime and Fantastical: 165 New Poems (45-50)

 

 

2014-08-03 11.18.32

 

45.

He was young

He was shiny

He was slim

He was brand

 

He was earth

He was sky

He was tremor

He was fall

 

He was chartered

He was bus

He was hampered

He was slowed

 

He was kind

He was vain

He was branded

He was armed

 

He was questioned

He was game

He was knowledge

He was stained

 

He was awed, keening, blurred

He was bloody

He was serious

He is damned

 

2014-08-02 20.54.12

46.

Was I ever sober when I declared the hierarchy of love

As chocolate, wine then you?

 

It’s cold outside

It’s cold inside

My skin is clammy with desire

And there’s no one else at home

 

Let me instigate this kind of trouble

Let me trouble this investigation

Investigate this troubling notion

That silk and cotton

Are perfect replacements for your hands

That smokes and alcohol can be remedies

for an unkissed mouth

That this last weekend

Is an almost forgotten dream

 

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47.

I don’t want to meet for coffee any more

I don’t want to meet you in the deepest corners of cafes

and talk about newspaper articles and yesterday’s news

 

I don’t want to spend two hours with baby at breast

Waiting for sibling at nursery school

In a cafe full of strollers with other mothers and other babies

Waiting for siblings at nursery school

 

I want you to take me home

Let sleeping babies sleep

I want you to guide me to the sink

Drape a towel over my shoulders and run the warm tap

 

I want you to hold the back of my head

I want you to guide the soap away from my eyes

I want you to rinse my head with water, a tad too hot

I want you to wash my hair

 

On Thursdays I want to walk by the shampoo aisle

with baby at breast

And remember the smell of shampoo

 

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48.

There is no power to a wretched god

a ratchet god

coughing up phlegm

 

There is no power to a god

who holds up his pants with one hand

as he waits his turn to walk

through the metal detector at Heathrow

 

There’s even less to god in a good suit

nothing

nothing

not even the remote possibility

not even the light

of a small smile

 

2014-08-02 20.54.12

49.

This morning

we found her curled up, asleep inside a potato

 

When she woke up

she said it was good for her skin, all that starch

she said it was soft and warm and dark

she said potatoes smelled like earth

she said we couldn’t understand

she said that all she wanted was to go back home

 

2014-08-03 11.18.32

 

50.

Days stumble into each other

Friday collapses into Monday

After you

A golden city awaits

After you

A city resplendent in memories and glittery with tears

After you

Home

 

 

 

 

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