DARK MATTER will we find the fabric of darkness buried in a mine shaft? this scrim tide that hurricanes through me might leave its finger print on pure crystal like a disrespectful thief, then in dogmatic spin hold its skirt hems tight to its centre and never be seen again. This was written for Twiglet … Continue reading Twiglet #294
Tourist Without a Dictionary Beneath every mountain is a map flung but unsung by ravensong or the witchcraft of breeze-saying. When we walk, breath coarse as ice flow from this snow-crusted air, I stop on thigh-sore’s pitch and turn to the view. There it is, the sprawl of our city, roof-tumble and tree toss and … Continue reading Twiglet #290
this wind kicks pieces of autumn through a slatted fence and my stratospheric eye chases neon in cerulean blue - orange pekoe stars from plane tree toss. this day is poised before a seasonal hand shakes down winter shutters, the rattle of bare wood and trigger breezes, sunken sky and the whip-snap of frost in … Continue reading Transition
cloud, the doctor says implies humidity sometimes, the doctor says it’s not cloud, just colour she sees now her brain in a dry tank perhaps like printer cartridges she sees now fine powder ink without moisture what colour is thinking? chemically descended it’s a coloured bottle and out there, a shaded distorted world what colour … Continue reading Thought Haze
What I learned about Ancient Greece at the Museum today they had a season for battle between grains and grapes summers of trampled fields the dead young among the crop rows another harvest in the walloping sun we don’t wear the same clothes and our horses are just for fun but we live under the … Continue reading harvest in the sun
the wrong mountain and so we sat feet and fire bottoming a mulchy gully: around us the trees in jungling order stepped away, their pluming shadows just like the faces 'round- the in-and-out of firelight gasping and leaping, orange hearts my pack was propped against the hillside hope on its knees // I leaned into … Continue reading Missing Kelimutu #Twiglet 270
in the shower, she enjoys singing notes larking and spurling twisting curlicues escape the window men pass by: smart suits, thin ties and see the steam with its ride of melody they hear hair like rivers running satin and creamy shoulders bare as sunshine and hip bones wrapped in peach skin they picture fringed eyes, … Continue reading Twiglet #264
I thought you were mad when you topped up your jam pot with stars mixing them in with apricot nights such twinkling on my tongue and in your Huckleberry grin Written for Twiglet #263 "you're mad"
on thursday you wear pink and the snails march one-footed antennae bayonet high we link our thumbs swearing on Mummy’s "Encyclopaedia of Bulbs" as we lay flowers on the graves of the thrice-consumed lettuces the little geranium glows amongst its green plate leaves and we drink red cordial and draw crosses in the dirt Written … Continue reading the funeral
I held breath for you that your leaden stare may miss my heart. A tetchy ally with heatless fire & prickled wrath, making toad skin of the battle ground. Beneath my ribs a war unseen... like the cat in the grevillea bush take your tumult and wield it with claws egregious as scythes Written for … Continue reading The Battle
Image by C Coles Phillips (1880-1927) (Like Mother's own sails she's cinched and stayed) It's early, driftwood quiet except for waters' lazy slap Far off, through pearly haze she knows the summer harbour its busy stone window and the framing stench of fish. But here, there's the pleasure of an empty deck the sky blue … Continue reading Blue Morning
Out of the Cave 