I kneel behind him Pick up my hair, half per hand And wrap it around His worked-out, pork-fed middle And there’s hair left over still to bend We pull the light in from the music Even in Kansas I wander with my wrinkled-fairy body…
Once in the early 90’s in India I was very ill with mercury poisoning. A reckless dentist had assured me no dental dam was needed as, with a hot drill, he removed eleven amalgam fillings (I could feel the little shards of metal in my mouth) over a space of…
One evening two thousand of us sat with folded legs on cushions in a vast oval hall with a marble floor and walls of mosquito netting. High overhead arched a roof made of tough fabric supported by metal beams. The tropic darkness clung closely to the structure, but we sat…
Ok, this is a big fat rant, about two things almost impossible to find in this consuming-mad, insectoidally-voracious, provide-anything-whatsoever-and-somebody-will-buy-it world. I’ll start with the bread, ha ha, and work up to the bras, though it just sounded better to put the latter first in the title. Ha ha. (I’m full…
It’s good for things to lie down Under snow Under snow We too will have to be Tucked under Black-armed under Into the gap, and gap Again A man old enough for wisdom Though few do know Breathes through tooth-holes Laughing…
I was on Ko-Pi-Pi, an island off the southern tip of Thailand, to rest after a gruelling work trip to Japan. I was with a boyfriend, a not very nice one (insecurity made him arrogant; weariness me intolerant) but in that place we did not squabble – the heat and…
I was boy crazy for forty years All I wanted was the flayed whale Its huge red flesh And the senseless drumbeat Which would beget no kid. Then one morning I woke up And both the thorn and the rose Had lost meaning.
They’re paired up Coupled up All over the land Man slid in woman Woman in man Mostly they’re chunky Heavy with fat But the flesh it is humming Murmurous in that Lying down gently All over the land Man lies in…
We’re driving home as dusk comes up out of the air over the flattish land and turns it all inwards. Over the hills slight as breathing, from within the ground, creeping slowly but sure, grey and mauve and deeper darkness come – turning things over like a mouse turning in…
(warning: for reasons of its own, this poem will be rhyming more and more furiously as it goes along, at times lapsing into limerick. Perhaps this has something to do with the habit of roaches to clone themselves in a tumultous and accelerating way??) India, 1974 I’m heaving lemon-tarts…
Relaxing Back Balls For minor back distress (for example if you lift something just that much too heavy) and to prevent it from becoming worse, I have found this of enormous value: take two tennis balls or racquet balls – depending on your size – and at first sign of…
Once, rather long ago, a wee baby girl curled up like a seedling in her mother’s womb, and maybe she was eventually pressing her face against its warm walls so hard, trying to see what was going on out there, that her little nose got smashed, or maybe she was…