verse

- V e r s e -

massive phasic transport
massive phasic transport
factional eruption
erubescent and tremendous
jagged intercranial
collapsing particles depart enraged
and massively intruding
whiplash coronary heart
and
splintered miracle
encoded anamorphic thunder
suctioned jetwash,
boneless joy,
unconscious toy

i n t e r g l a c i a l

Rolling cold and cloud is cleansed of ice
it lies down in the dark cirque's lap
and fractures and divides
all brightly glistening, entombed inside, conveyed
toward moraine
embittered powder blue and lactic grey
a mountain's milk and flesh and blood
is given up in spate,
in flood rolled over stone
and taken home
in pieces
flushed in to
denatured dissolution
as the whole becomes the smallest coin
to lie amid the trees in state
the rata's stare turned east
in crimson praise,
then cast away again.

The buds break on the old bird plum
they do declare that spring has come
but nights lean long between pale suns
a month before the winter's done.

In surmounting the helpless plum tree
the aviary birds are
taken
in his mind,
bitten quite in half,
the stupid creatures.
Did they not know?
It matters not.
The morning itself
was fair warning.
We are all of us predated.

The Great Cat Moo
is wild today,
rushing, airily,
through the laundry
toward freedom
and away
from the imposition
of catmeat,
supplied.

Enjoyed, yes,
but hardly required
by such a
perfect
feline
mechanism.

The Stellar Other

I sometimes meet the lost at night
and stepping over Cerberus's chain,
you were returned to me
I took your hand and held it to my face
I saw you through our fingers
your eyes
always the colour of the
scholar's dissertation
their darkest blue reserve
once more mine to remember.

And from the first I saw the muses
all attendant at your birth
Fortune had bitten you and left her kisses
ringed around your neck
her favourite son
you were her gift
to all who never knew her.

And if you had been raised
by erring wolves
no one would have ever known
to look at you
you errant Adonaïs,
your perfect clay proclaimed you from afar
while the smoke rings took your fox's laugh
into the blacklight.

And if your mother never heard you
and your father never saw what they had made
forever deaf and blind may they remain.
They threw an alpha, ne plus ultra
your gifts
all seven wonders
and I knew you were my people
born with stars upon your knees,
and even from your height
you would go down on them for me.
You heard with one, but smiled with both
our harmony a whole
wordless and perfect as the moon
ilargia,
todas las estrellas y la luna.

You gave Strange Fruit to me,
her voice, and not its portent
and in your bed your body spoke the language
of its blessed shape
I felt the word poured forth amid the dark miles that I passed
all broad and full-blown
driven deep against the slow roll of your hips
your hand a sweet guest and
my private whore
Enkidu, incandescent
milk-white, shameless midnight
you loved like you had never seen the sun
but had been made to show me stars
and as I lay under your shoulders
your wordless mouth could mute the bard.

You graceful
bright and crownless Solomon
I should have made your bread and washed your feet.

And I
did not agree to lose you
to relinquish you to chemistry
that Nemesis was never anything to me,
but followed you
until you fell into that falling sickness
so unlike Caesar's malaise
already crawled behind your aegis,
darkness knotted round your arm, your hand
lost to a fist
and when your blue went down behind your lids
no Orpheus could sing you to the light
your left, that double bind
your sinister had found you.

Sometimes
there is something to be said
for Nothing
but we never believed
in an Elysium.
When we go down with stars upon our knees
it is to nothing
and it drives the hardest bargain.
Nothing
could give no more offence to your creators
than to offer you in pieces
to return you to the Garden with a smile, wreathed in laurel.

And to
whoever may have found what you had left
my sincere regret,
my deepest sympathies.
To have laid you low
and drawn the black around veinte dos veranos,
twenty-two summers
your bones not even grown
your glowing tiger-mind
more gifts than you would ever know laid out in shallow silver
and when they weighed your heart Asclepius would weep
beside the stones.

Some days
your loss is something fatal in itself
caught in my throat
to breathe or move will be to join you.
That is what it is to lie with Nothing
you took me down and widowed me and left me on the ground
to burn my eyes out in your ashes.

The stars upon your knees are on my own
and I
have always worn them as you wished.
Inside me you have lain so undiminished
Fortune finished with you, perfect clay forgotten
and I
would trade her bitter, graceless favour
for another day
to lash the muses, change your name and feed the years to Cerberus,
that punishment they all deserve.

I found that I could play when you had gone
and now my heroes wear your colours,
delight their lovers with your smile.

Never dream
that no one lights a flame for you
no sun sets on a day without my hands upon your face
upon my life, you are still loved
always the scholar's dissertation
and my songs will wear the lustre
of your endless constellation.

*

over the main

* fat cunts *

To impugn a girl’s front
is an odious stunt
may it recoil
on those
who inscribe it.
To proclaim such a thought
defines one as naught
and I’ll hate-fuck
whoever has tried it.
With rumoured dentition
behind pink partitions
we might hope
for better behaviour
but
T’would give great satisfaction
in the midst of the action
to hear a perp
scream for their saviour.

Shitty Bra

demoralizing minimiser
mammary antipathiser
globes of creme delight disguiser
promise dashed
in flesh mashed flat
proud pillowed prow
deflated
more separate than elevated
disjunct hills thusly created
parted like Mosaic seas
engender’d views of curse’d knees
where once stood mighty isles
of twinned and orotund
abundance.

o sternum
shaded, loveless and
unlooked-for.