The train is constant; it chugs through the sole of my shoe and ends its route somewhere
near a cochlea. Blind to noise, we take tea together, while teacups rain from the heavy sky
and litter the ground with broken shards, grey against the sand. “Where
do we end?” you ask Five
whilst counting dis-
located fingers (we have only just begun, but Zero already told you that).
Tears collect in the corners of my elongated mouth as I
gag, gag, gag, gag, gag
gloves on my hands like leather skin of a minotaur leading my deaf eyes ‘round each corner,
jerking muscles beneath my touch,
hoof in my hand,
horn in my hair, shattered
china underfoot.
He leaves me by a pool, yellow water, rippling red: my reflection
emerging to meet me.
It’s been a while.
We are glued, my self and me I rise from the water
and watch my habitat evolve: the serpent and the lizard making love,
and buffalo
chasing the call of a distant whale through the purple sky.
The reptiles interest me most. They want to break
apart and resign to genetic dictatorship, yet
they cannot resist: the serpent coiled
around the lizard’s scaly
back, thrusting and writhing, tongues
flicking in and out with pleasure.
They are too immersed in their reptilian tantra, oblivious
to the quicksand gradually consuming their rapt forms.
The plain unfolds itself to me and on the mountain’s tail I am met by a withered virgin,
feet bleeding at the end of cankered ankles (the Ram
and the Virgin,
each a grotesque
image of the other, mirrored mouths open in silent scream, forever forward, forward, don’t
look back).
Bones emerge from beneath my skin.
I bleed to the river, misting what we know and what we will know, cracking
cups, sipping the entrails of an oyster shell, piercing
our eyes with darts, crying and laughing as we dance back-to-
back through shifting spotlights of pink and indigo
fade to black: how
could we have managed all of this?
N.B.
I have played with the form of this poem a lot but the blog with not
allow me to post some of the physical ways in which I have manipulated
it. In my opinion the line breaks also need a lot of work. Don’t let
that affect your reading though!
Lovin
it. Intoxicating verses, intense imagery, fluid randomness. Quite a
mysterious trip, will definetly have to read (slowly) a couple more
times. I wonder how come people don’t leave as much commentary on your
poetry anymore…
Really
like this Sho, one of my faves of urs i think. dont think form needs
too much alteration really. liked it, a great reading experience.
the rain in spain falls mainly
on my pain like teacups it
shatters death a[lone]
love it.