Down and out

‚ÄčI was eating pizza on the steps when

A beggar asked me for money, I had
None but offered him the other half
With artichokes still hot, but he said
No it wouldn’t feel right, and walked on.

And the next bites were sweeter and
Clearer in the context of his pain, the
Mozzarella soothed my heart as a velvet
Curtain richly slices off the ache of frost.
Lucky me to eat and eat outside out of

Choice, not at home, a home to choose to not be in, not to have to find a nook every night to hook my sleeping soul on, not to
Have to sleep on stone a sleep closer to the night than is comfortable, a public

Closure of my body, a performance to the
City of my freezing lung, not enough heat to snore, just enough to breathe in before the next dreaded dram of coffin-cold air.

Octopuses only have 3 years to live

My tentacles are crazing
My arms into submission,
My hearts march to the beat of
My heads’ drums rolling

Making me black as rock
As luminescent as the
Sun caught in a thousand coral

Spools, maybe just 3 years to
Trick minnows into raw death
Before I release each heart and
Head and leg back to the stark beneath

Oceanopia

Much dark and thick possibility so much sound

Shooting up like a rock from the seas with myriad

Layers, layering upon layer in dry notes that jag

 

Shapes in the clay furrows already layered above

The waves ready for you, your sound summoned

Up from the deep so deep and dark so dark and

Deep deep breathless deep silent blackness blued

Out with dark deep darkness calling you back

 

And pulling you up without tension is

A perfect curving swoop of free joy and peace

Without cessation floating fast motion rolling crisply

With sudden air bursting nobly, regal flare, to say

Blow rushed Hey to the Sun and the stars and

 

Their rays and the Moon and the waves and

The bright bright tight spaces dancing, tickling

Upper world before swinging back round to the

Beginning of everything and into everything

That holds food and fish and blue and

 

Dark and deep and low and teeming back

Black and back up above, to breathe

Like a wave a breath like the first. The first.

Bat Foot Stand

Upside down is a bat’s way up

Love Again

Love is when nothing distinguishes

It is life in its singlest form.
It was the first and is the last
Also, time after time.

Love has no rhythm, it is too
Abundant to rise and fall
There can be no more nor
Less. The amount is fixed in pi.

Love has no soul, it cannot
See, it is as shapeless as
Dusk, and, as dust, finds every
Corner, and always returns.

Girl begging on the tube

Every step a struggle
Every word a prayer for
It to stop, every blink

Caked in cheap mascara,
Every thread of jean
Grabbing at hunger aching

In the hips and knees
Under the floating breakers
Washing round the hollows
Of her emptied heart

Birthday Past

image

Dark cake and a pair of shoes
On the grave outskirts of Saint James’s Park, just outside the gates, in fact,

On a grey paving slab, quiet clean, but
For the crumbs and smear, like dog shit,
In its roadside homelessness, nowhere

The sweet kitchen that supported it, we presume, before it got led astray, wandered from the safety of the

Picnic blanket, perhaps taken by these shoes..
But they lost their way, neither shoe can tell tales to passing

Strangers now, both are mute.
Was she Happy when she left?
We can only guess and hope she got some new shoes