angst
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Like a fisherman on the shore,pulling out the deep sea like a brush stroke, a long drag from someone else’s cigarette, and the pitter-patter of ink blots on a worm-eaten pier. I am self-diagnosing problems in the name of poetry. If poetry is, as old men put, the best words in the best order, doesorder…
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highway palette plank on plankto a distant star think of yellowdirt-runed dunes of carrot cakesand flowing in infinite hour-glasses off the side of a lonely planet some other side of thislonely galaxy what is the colourof your gratitude can you explainthe middle ground between greenand not-green and who knows what there is to do at…
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a flat cap, a smushed shoe, the lawn cuttings left out orphaned and buzzcut bleeding steady, a brokendown car by the side of a cruise liner, a ship at the bottom of the sea,a cabin locked and floodingwith all of the world’s answers within it, like a child rubbing their stomach,a pot-bellied pig waiting to…
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there is something buried at the intersectionof love and hope / for which we have left no tombstone, no marker, no nameplate / some things are best left unnamed / or rather, that we take them away / to name something is to give it power / to speak something is to speakpower / without…
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hope is this ladder you build for yourself as you’re climbing it into heaven / every rung is a bone pulled from your own spine / so delicate that a strong wind could send you toppling into hell / hope is too much for me / sometimes the moreI climb the more I lose track…
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Give me a poet who does not know violence like the inside of their mouths, their tongues running across it to smooth the groove. Give me a poet who does not know what it means for injustice to take root and become its own narrative. Give me a poet who is not afraid of the…
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raise the curtains over this beehive / here is a magic trick / you have to wait for time to tell you the secret / but it’s noisy still / noisy still / noisy still / so much movement in so little space / is also a metaphor for my heart of hearts / there’s…
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I goose-body tether-walk down garden-pathfind picnic blooming pumpkins on picnic-mat and ten thousand ways to dishat a man my body plump with feathers and natural malice and my beak a car’s horn of notice me notice no geese allowed in the pub no geese allowedI am a walking instability of kinetic energy drawn to pull…
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Suspended in God’s gelatine, the stars are various unnamed slices of fruit, plucked off the last tree in the world. We are all ark-like on this blessed day, this day of endless rainstorm and wind, the invitation letter of an eternal flood. Or – I might be exaggerating. Some times call for simpler things to…
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My therapist described the pain as a knot bundled up in the body. Asshe started to try and smooth it out,I couldn’t help but imagine a bundle of yarn veined about my back. Imagineeach string coming loose, one by one, as the minute hand ticks on, the soundits own perverse voyeur. In some aspectsall pain…
ugly stage 