April 2012
6 posts
5 tags
Wrapping Paper, 6” x 6”
In amongst all this packaging
I can feel you – the rip and tear of cardboard
and how you removed my clothes.
From the blue lines, the scrawled words,
I can trace your fingernibs
and unpluck your prints.
Touching the rough unstuck gum
I can kiss you
still.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Modern-Love-Flap-Pamphlet-Series/dp/190523337X/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1/277-0759246-6082327
5 tags
December: Modern Love: Texting
Modern Love: Texting
We send each other text messages at work. Discuss what we’re having for lunch. Ether-joined by unlimited messages and pixel screens. Two minutes after saying goodbye on dates our phones jangle, vibrate, ‘I had a lovely time tonight :-)’.
The little xx means more from you. You give me fewer than my mum. I look and linger at them, there, at the end of your miniature letters....
4 tags
November: Statues
We lie, two statues scared scared of skin.
[link]
4 tags
November: Journeyman
We took a journey. After the drink
that somehow bridged our first hellos then at night, as we attempted sleep, the closed brackets of our bodies.
That night we carved new words in city stone, bottomed glasses: vodka and Diet Coke as our mouths, judging, but kind, spoke tomes in the quiet move of Zygomaticus major and minor and more.
First, of nervous probing, a smirk as you laughed twice at my...
5 tags
October: Ways Not To Fall In Love
I will not ask your name in case it becomes my new lullaby turned over and over again.
I will not kiss you first in case, pecked, it remains with me a silent signature of your lips.
I will not dance with you in case the drink blurs your face into my dreams watching between Love and Like.
I will not tell you my hopes in case you fall for those and not for me.
I will not speak to you in case your...
5 tags
October: Vowel Speak
Once, I met him under a vowel filled nighttime of ohs, and yous, and ees, and Is. Beneath the neon hued Can Club; just us, hands clenched tight like crab claws. Mouths apart speaking of nothing, everything. The space between sighlences. This is one of the poems I wrote on the Barbican Young Poets Scheme. It’s a Fibonacci sequence poem. In mathematics, the Fibonacci numbers are the numbers...
