December 2008
13 posts
Love Poem
The first was desperate.
I guess it was angry, and also arrogant.
Erupting from heaving suburbs, brooding in summer roads.
My first kiss on a picnic bench at 4am.
Half-child, half-adolescent, he understood as he took my disney hat off,
laughing.
On the drooping staircases of Paris, my paternal betrayal stills ascends.
The end was gruesome. A yelling brokenheart.
His scratched wrists in a...
It turns out my whole family are poets
The christmas scarf. How does it die? It is suffocated by all the other christmas scarves, my brother’s excited red, Sam’s happy stripey. That, or left in a taxi, or frozen and drowned in a London canal, after a heavy night. Is it happy or unhappy? Happy. Who wouldn’t be sharing the heat, of a grateful companion? What part of a sleeping woman’s anatomy would you place it...
Discoveries on the grass at 2am
The world has the capacity to be very very cold.
The cloud that is almost completely black is still an absense of complete blackness.
When I tip my head back, there is a halo of black trees around my head.
You are on your side, with your eyes closed, and I wish you knew how important you are to me.
I think I might have burnt my tonsils.
Even
Even time is sponsored nowadays.
Back in The Suburbs
The precise fingers of the wind,
Pinch the tips of my ears,
Taking me a few millimetres off the ground.
I skate across the icy concrete.
I almost fall into the road,
Someone smiles to themselves in a passing car.
A friend’s home - warm and familiar.
A happy awkward hug,
questions accompanied by curious glances,
Have you changed?
Not at all. Your hands still tremble slightly.
You...
My Parents Are Selling My Past (Explicit Content)
I awake to strangers peering into my room,
I think they are judging my life in boxes.
The mother says shhh shhh to the crying baby.
You’ll wake her up, shhh! I pretend to be asleep,
I dont see them but I hear them.
Downstairs now “Well, it’s well taken care of”
What? Do I drift in and out of this?
I can imagine them in my sitting room,
I think I’m still drunk...
Experiment In Loneliness
Step one: home from home, get horrendously
and fantastically drunk.
Notes on your phone:
You are any other day of the week.
Writing poetry in my head in
a 5th ave toilet cubicle.
Mesmerising empty dance floor.
Dissapointment, last night those words
sounded like genius.
I sit in a Church pew,
“Our father who art in heaven”
shit shit shit
One arm across my body
I am ferociously hungry.
Hot, creamy custard,
Crunching, rich chocolate.
Pollen-sweet icing dripping
over soft, moist cake.
A steak. Cut it open and
see the hot, red liquid,
roll across the steal blade.
I am so furiously thirsty.
Crystal-sharp cold water,
Drench me, coal-throat.
I am so furiously hungry.
Push against my body,
singing, high on caffeine and
dance! Lift and extend,...
1st Draft of Short Story - "Blackhole" or some...
“Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.”
- Aldous Huxley
Your brother was really interested in physics as a kid. At one point it was almost an obsession, one summer obsession. One hot summer, your wild enthusiasm for water fights and paddling pools meant nothing to him, as long as he could read his books about space travel and...
“I’m thinking it’s a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror...”
– Such Great Heights
Spinning Top (written in seminar)
I am endlessly bored. Endlessly, tirelessly bored. I crave the spinning world, I need the dizziness to feel alive. But for now I am a dead root, a tuber of potential energy, fat and still.
Once I sat among long bendy pencils, variously coloured museum gift shop rubbers that would squeak amongst themselves, and plastic spiders, climbing on each other with spindly plastic legs. I sat there with all...