Tuesday, April 26, 2005


deprived how? pub tiles
glazed bile not bottle green
all bottles inside – the only
toys bottle tops plied
daddy comforter. I

hide: Jew, Irish, blacks, fag stenched,
factory thin
thick chip shop fat
mommy intoxicator dues
my bladder on slops

thunder, Christmas, Saturday night,
Sunday Night at the London Palladium, any
excuse no prioritising stuff
your anaesthetising love
concoction Madame

Smotherer madwoman mother no motherer
shoulda ran washed cooked scrubbed swept
but sat stared twitched mock-slept
clobbered him a’damn snorer
pinned y’self against escape

childhood safety-pinned nightdress thing
to the flannelette
bottom sheet lest
the war wind bomb butterfly
daddy love Blew you fanlight

away. Impregnated by your own progenitorator
cousin asthmatic sterile
grandfather’s double
every family cupboard
every culpable skeleton

plumped by Mackeson
Aphrodite agoraphobic
me arm in arm with shadow twin
adorable inseparable how angry dropped
how concocted how deplorable how

spent by 12: who would want to know
cept them 60 s 70 s sex marauderers
any man who could would let it let it let
as if for rent but free screamin’
hold me hold me hold me

don’t sit smoke read withdraw
each book photographically read
pages turned at random
a sci-fi addict passive aggressive
who walked spent dominoed

cauled weekly wages responsibility silently
my stereotypical lover man
my intellectual fantasy man
measure me grown with little pencils ticks
up doorjamb adoring pricks making wrong

jumbled lineage gypsy throwback
wench fed whiskey rum Advocat Babycham
damn you all genes with no circadian
cept knees house maid lamb sacrificial
stronger for their prayerfall

AME! -

this is so, so v. good (you know that) [maybe my favorite read, of late]

the fire in this poem is beyond words.

don’t sit smoke read withdraw
each book photographically read
pages turned at random

i can't even convey how sad this scene is *sigh*

& your opening strophe...the closet skeletons

me inlove with your eye on life,
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