AnnMarie Eldon

post-modern pandora’s queasy turn

she cossets first the tangled bed wire
then leftover hair tourmaline yet mattressed
and on through decadent dried scars, severe,
sculpted, forming waves with each a nauseate
as if sincere at the time, thus not solitary
but compacted hence far too much to simply
surf and so stacks discarded sincerities
brutal attempts at recompense all those many
many times she’d tried but you said
in defence suddenly huge like a David – brilliantly sculpted
out of a thin thin block. Exact. Rebutted.
strange that how clever he is
artistic ’ologies in their own Tunbridge ware marquetry protection
precisely inlaid history dark exceptions against their lighter
shamless selves many moves towards a middle ground
lush skin scents counting as smaller, finer objets com-
pacted bejewelled alongside a wry smile
an ironic agreement as-seen-from-inside
matching fabrics domestically designed timetables
forthcoming and driving together to pre-arranged, relaxed, destinations
as if (another) purpose
as if (again) enjoyable
with written stuff jazz that was understood classical
that wasn’t
grotesque shouted Germanic/whining Italianate melodramatics anything Wagnerian
that in any case
was never going to end the stts and inhalations, which heralded audio dyslexia
which was of itself never taken seriously
but adhered to as yet another thing all artistically lovingly
gorgeously wrapped also the biggest ehm as if
as if a prayer
as if a tropism
and she could dare and fuck it and
chuck it all