Speedboats
when One summer Everything opened out And nobody close by Was quick enough With needle and gut To stitch the blue sky away From all that fresh flesh How we splashed about In the
Understanding lemons
lemons don’t let you admire yourself too much They stick from their tree like awkward thoughts Demanding a truth be told even if the tongue Would prefer a far more sickly explanation Lemons are
Doughnut denial
(an ascetic poem for karen’s birthday) Fancy having a birthday on a thursday When you do the buying of the doughnuts And others lick their sticky fingers Thinking good old karen letting Us share
Bluefish
the bluefish was surprised I was there to greet it This world it said is mine It feeds on blueness For the first time in my life I felt i’d found my truth Bluefish
Stylised tulips
stylised tulips – this is what the card says And they have that nineteen-twenties’ feel Of those bright young things a decade before us Who had a way of walking with their legs Bent
Girl (three) and the black horse
i want to hold the horse’s string Cried the girl (three) stamping her foot Told by adults she was much too young The black horse stood staring at the wall It worries us you
Ducks and wisdom
[from a motif by Jean Dunand (1877-1942)] Seven lacqueur ducks on a silver pond Their rippling held in a moveless frieze Nothing now can help them swim beyond The stoned edges (invent a new-age
Two crocodiles gossip by the banks of the thames at abingdon
two old lazy crocodiles are basking by the water They get round to talk about the macdonalds’ daughter Gemini gemini Have you ever set eyes on young stephanie Jiminy jiminy Who lives here in
Bad for ears
the song wasn’t up to the task Of getting through the double-glazing Into the ears pressed on the outside pane The rest of their bodies had faded away but The ears were straining still
(i) the inkman
whirligig twister Dancer prancer St vitus’s quester Chancer romancer The inkman cometh From that nether world Where dream and coincidence Are darkly furled Accident rubbed him Into puzzling light He is what he isn’t
The watchers
against their beliefs a blue spot came slowly Out of the green Nobody expected such a thing to occur On a thursday The watchers switched over from their electronic Eye to their notes The
Your tiger
(in china it is symbolic Of darkness and the new moon) In your night’s hollow The tiger stalks Black grasses have licked It into nothingness Hooked by moon I hover on your hollow’s lip
Transformations
(service resettlement courses at studio fronceri – west wales) And the swords came in their varying degrees Of shininess and sharpness – some never Having lost their pristine feel – others with blunt Tips
Sea horn
within the shell swim all the sea’s fish Our ears too are compendiums of sound The big bang exploded – such a long wish Waves and warps towards the present ground Shell to ear
Southampton water
song of sea-leaves in an orchestra of foam Branches of violins sprayed across the mind What is magnetic in a wave breaking white Drawing the chords of evening to a single sound I would