There is a wall I lean at when the ice breaks apart the house. Heaving knives of wood rum and milk. I bite hands. Clean in planes intimate with hooks pounded falling air. Sun went badly hail slapped up asps. […]
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Hospital (2)
February 12, 2016 by Leave a Comment
There’s picture I take of some of me catching bone from city floor. Tearing houses to numb eyes. Sent from the objects. Fires seen shooting from heads. Death flower sifted ash as if it were many. Floors […]
Sonnet, with home
February 20, 2016 by 2 Comments
1. My wife once said I should write more love poems. 2. So I wrote a poem about sloth moths. 3. There really was love in it—to a certain moth, a sloth is home. 4. Home is another word for love. 5. I hope that doesn’t sound trite. 6. Actually, I don’t care if it does. 7. Today I thought I should […]
from The Book of Evidence by John Banville
I had expected to arrive in rain, and at Holyhead, indeed, a fine, warm drizzle was falling, but when we got out on the channel the sun broke through again. It was evening. The sea was calm, an oiled, taut meniscus, mauve-tinted and curiously high and curved. From the forward lounge where I sat the […]
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“You’re the Tower and I Am Rapunzel, She Says” by Christopher Lowe
And I let her climb my back, feet and knees knocking hard on the backs of my thighs, my kidneys, my neck, before she settles herself on my shoulders and calls for her Prince to come and rescue her, to come and take her away from this tower, to teach her love, and she says, […]
