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Clothed
If you only came over Hoping against hope To see me without clothes I fear it’s sad you’ll walk home For my name in the old phonebooks Is the cloakhook tyrant, Fortycoats!
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Hotpushy
Such shoving energy her look throws She gets to take the lift alone whenever she goes. She does not rush. Not to here, not to home. Flows Liffeylike. Her wake’s a rose tide My nose tight Her scent ladylike. An oily rain, sideways For lens her tights Lend me your elements and I will make…
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Couplingscent
I smell it like spilled spirits Her room’s telling lyrics hinted ribaldries One last pyrrhic tryst. A final taste of her dribbled electricity. One glass of fear-fearing milk I kill to muster the silken steel She requires from me. A choir of words potent magically Spoken over a glyph spoked seal from Solomon’s psalter Confined…
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Foliage
Ox-eyed at her foxlike Her flight-tossed hair Was hawk’s eye or bauxite and was like A honeysuckle jaundice-budded hugging a citadel of exhausting height. Above a Dublin flooded, struggling to stay above History’s weight, unphrased love’s doveshape hovers. Creation is never phased but the man is brittle as a manifestation; What man can a kingdom…
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The cure
Hours and days In arrested daze Induced some hitherto-glueshut effusive In shooting, rooting May’s replacement A statue living on the fumes of stale praise Long idle, at apathy’s sanction Can find with time ample pride even in rust I want us To smash all the idols That we might Bridle the dust. The tide can…
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Alchemisland 