shirt tucked in & shoes untied,

I was sleeping in the garden.

I’ve been twisting to the sun,

but that howling wind

she’ll take everything:

tears like flashbulbs,

my head big as a birthday.

my celibate days are over.

I will be your treasure.


(Found poem using lyrics. Copyright remains with original writers)


Snakes for broken lovers

A skull for her father

Her bloodline is a constellation

carrying her arms. Her torso

hosts a garden: a fading rose for every year. Soon, she says,

a diener will find the story

of her skin. Will lose count

of the blossoms

but know that she had lived




there is gold on the belly

of the cumulus clouds

& gold running hysterical

over the rapeseed fields

& gold spiteful slits

in the malachite pines

& gold on the hairs

on your forearms

& gold startling your eyes

& any second

& any second

& any second

it will end




the arrangement of atoms:


patterns on the window

are impressions the weather has made.

clouds just beautiful water.

the sun is a boom box on a loud street

& a box of photographs where nothing happens

is what I have left

to hold






Slit the skin

Separate muscle/

ribbons of fat/

the geography of ligaments

to expose

the geometry of bones

Christen them in milk/

ice water/ lay them out

in a sunny spot

A windowsill/

a counter top

Assemble the wire

Breathe in

You will need

a steady hand



Self Portrait as Selene

I am myself. That is

: a body of stone

boiled by the silent sea

: a slit in the night cloth

: a sliver of bone

crescive in orbit

/open as a mouth

. O

give me nothing

to reflect on. Make my body

no mirror

for men

who commit acts of love

& ruin




Today’s prompt was to write a poem reflecting on being in the middle of something. It is perhaps more fair to say this is more an attempt to write poetry whilst being in the middle of a lot of other things; it’s composed of found, overheard and free-written phrases.

Poem in which I am Inside the Eye of a Hurricane,

hip bones somewhere/
all I wanted was the tour
of/ alleged happiness/ to travel light/

unregulated as/a doctor./
point my /swamp heart/
unfathomable under/ apple

trees/ towards destruction/ the earth
churned up/ the sea dispersed/
thoughts forgiven for being/

written down/ humble
and coined/ skewbald./
slowing down/ better not be/

the new destruction.



Picture credit: Lucille Handberg 1927, also used for Siouxsie & the Banshees Tinderbox album