by Poetry

you wonder what fates have brought us here      I can see it in your eyes
& I strangle laughter in my throat      knowing fate is a strange bed
& one in which I have never dared to sleep      I sleep too calmly now to be tortured by fate
chance makes the pillows & the bedclothes      & luck dares to admire your silhouette

had I been well, or even wealthy      would my body have settled here
I wonder; would my lips still dare to part      or come to breathe some sad excuse
holding only the clutter of pigeons      when I longed to weep a sparrow’s cry

had I the talent, the credit score      would we still be here in this wild hotel
with our legs entwined & our flesh burning      from each other’s Tartarus
would you have come to settle      upon the crook of my arm
if your other lovers traced      lovely fingers over your heart

instead of simply grazing      the surface of your breasts in desperation
& could overcome their wild passions      for the logic & mathematics of poetry
or the campaign of ecstasy I execute      as Thanatos delivering your body
to chains of his own design

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Hollowed Out

You hollowed me out and lived in my skin.
When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t me looking out…


Spear-shaft strength and a priest suffering metallic inspiration – the taste of copper in his fingertips making him itch and his flesh ring; he scratches with blades and scratches foreign skin, for daring to touch his own like a rash he takes inspiration from stock...

A Vague Outrage

White Cross, Blue Flag flicker; as the silhouettes, the half-men and the half-women write poetry and form semi-colons amongst the clouds and the endless skies; they block the sun in the spaces between phrase and phrase and I breathe petroleum, or the remnants of...


I ask their mirrors
clutching the remains
of some stolen loves &
trying to light ash again;
why me?