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A box of old things
Millennials scrolling mousewheels to squeaking exhaustion Trawling through old photographs No loose hard copies in shoeboxes beneath tossed beds Or kept locked up like anchorites in red Afternoon Tea biscuit tins Name, date and place written on the back in red From moment of penning until dumping upon death unread Jpegs of epochs where I…
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Did I summon you?
I have not seen you in a decade I stared at a picture of you this morning Then, on my way back from the shops, gazing At my feet in my way, you heying me from your bike Face of a stranger, how strange the world’s ways How the hidden sympathies intentions convey Bidding magnets…
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Smelling the past
Scent memory’s brother Indeed, smothering scent you send lends pensievity Teased at sense level, to ecstasy hastened A tickling feather zigzagging a wrist’s inners where a bracer strip fastens You are a pleasant nosegay Keyring, slipgate to memory place Vast unfixed estate Waging war against the state of myself.
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Album
Get this A night you went out More photographs thereof Than of entire centuries Before photography’s Invention.
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Lost holidays
Feasts to Saints whose names and graces we cannot say Time when day is not day but night lambent Star-tampered sky which Tamburlaine slept below enhancing To full lightness before the woad-pied day Suffering ecstatic vision A great division as at day’s erection, waters imprisoned Above and below, chthonic bodies and heavenly stow.
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