Poetry
Prose
Reading
SAILORS' HOME
1
SPRING SCENE – RIVER VALLEY
this infinitely big moment exposed by sunlight so big, this body
exposing a mat of tightly-clustered golden down
our heads are buried in it rubbing our cheeks a river valley
this moment what lies embraced is the shape of spring
lined up for you eyes closed you feel the hills are below
birdsong making your womb contract with pink blessing
wind stilled bloodstains chasing the end of each finger
catching the crack you hide within your shyness
soft and fragrant pushing the green banks of the river
so we see next breath there's no scenery
river valley bends into light lightspeed crumbling within each drop of
water
we know the destiny that makes the world bright and dizzy
complete in an instant this enchantment
kiss the destruction of the moment the tight hug is the flower
trembling erect burning point like a pistil or stamen
2
LYN BEACH
waves have been searching all along storm searching
sea puts a sharp standing nipple in your mouth
childhood like an overstretched halyard squealing
like a little room mottled with exuded paint destroyed and dilapidated
leaving the pearl shell of an ear on the windowsill
when surf licks your nickname what's left is a skeleton, silver-white,
articulated
horizon surrers its groans lilac from water pulled
so the tide is growing up a never wrinkled bedsheet
makes you afraid you want another April polluted
the beach's female sex surely somehow far away shifting
with the delicate belly of a fish to go on learning pain
your long legs twist hard around this gloaming
the pull of the wet a desperate passion to turn and survey
has used up the sea flesh fills a pot of sobs to arrive at
a form black all through then it deserves to catch your birthday
3
SHORE
the waves' crystal composing dead piano at an interval
in the sounding of the tides dead sailor's carefully trimmed fingers
swaying a room full of carnations and white coral
filled with the sexiness of a final stare candle flame's x-ray visage
shore a transparent structure in the flesh of lovemaking
we are each other's anchor we are each other's anchorage
shaky blue house skin is the harbour
the breach inlaid in us shows off the direction where the ocean empties
the dead captain icily conducts the overture
the concert is squeezed between our thighs the flow
a whiff of blood semaphore that waves bloody organs
the root says as it points no other place to go
you can go you should go in the dead mirror-frame on the panelling
the beast that covers over blue clauses slowly withdraws
shore remember the last stare stare with no end or beginning
4
SAILORS' HOME
a line of words carved on the wall words endlessly sailing
making children old endlessly overgrown blue plants
on the breakwaters hear white eyeballs weeping
father's semen is a foreign land separated by
the gap filled with radiant morning sunlight
mother hides in the seagull's blank cry
once more separation gives birth abandons this piece of vellum
another row of thin white waves beating far into farther
children deny that beyond the sea there is another realm
endlessly plotting sunshine-blackening ancestry
maddening the shore turning being forsaken into a work of art
the time that never comes is in the directory
forever blocked at the instant that will squeeze through the bloody
chimney
mother wails father's swollen dropped scrotum hangs down
like a constellation wriggling children's undeniable destiny
5
CHART OF A NAP
light floods out beyond the window white jellyfish floating by the
bed-head
tired semi-transparent interior like a half-closed eye
dancing multi-coloured fish tailsaround the candle spread
among sea floor pebbles her sleep imitates dying
dead still dreaming a thicket of black sea weed under orders
as ignorant as a body a body that just goes on diving
toe's tiny itches a soft coral reef of lips gently collide
melted tongues chase anaesthesia on the ankles
a telegram sent to the whole body fizzing flees inside
sea odoriferously twists a camellia of space
opened demon rubs and plays with a small clam-like thing
more like an animal than like her the more it skids, the more it will
pulse
glistening shakes off the pinching fingers of hope that's vain
escaped in the mirror's distant gaze mirror still painting
lying on its side a decadent Song dynasty crane
6
CHART OF A NAP
on the sea's surface a million flaming red rose gardens are drifting
on the bed the hollow of the throat is a little precisely carved one
don't knock that nipple let her go dreaming
let two tips in dreams the perfumed colour of smoke inhale
let an afternoon hold in its mouth milk seeping out drop by drop
what this instant hugs to its breast has all set sail
sleeping this city too is floating off
on the scaly steps of the surf two feet run wild
what's facing dazzling disaster is always one deep breath
the room is filled with bubbles imperceptibly rising
the flexing everywhere in the room grazes the whisper-brought night
know without asking a little rest is turning into screwing
in man-made night you see the bright moon when your eyes close
man is a reef collecting shadows of endings
pouring out in a flood to throw away existence
7
CRYSTAL PALACE
a window separates from deathly stillness the ugly shoals of this time
their visions stabbing through the years in the stone sarcophagus
rummaging for a bright red clitoris rubbed into slime
on tightly tangled bodies doubly extreme
both inserted both tongue and root swollen into one huge crystal
stuffed even fuller it butts against the more deeply hidden demesne
tightly tangled bodies only transparent if they never look back again
ovary of the ocean that thousands of times has died
violently exhales a mouthful of blood only scarily hard if it lives with
losing
finding you sealed first night like a page first drafted
darkness like a windowsill displays again a pot of hydrangeas
only let me see your beauty all ready crafted
collapse starry sky of sex stopping in the first big bang
big ball of spat-out snow white has no past
water helplessly locked in stone has only now come along
8
PLURAL
the plural of now plural is blue
bleached shadows of sailors floating on the crests of every wave
refracted into what can't be awaited drowning is plural too
what still cuts the horizon from the prism is radiance
what still endlessly re-writes addresses is the sea yelling for more
another post-coital skeleton spat out on a stone bench
it's empty as nautical miles green furniture set out across the precipice
the room holding all time differences opens the sheep eyes of morning
who sinks into what can't be awaited self has to wait for this
sharp blade for sailors to peel off fruit flesh in slices
doesn't once exist though chewed times without number
not an I is left destroyed only then to become us
shatter domiciled in the heartless pounding surf
can't even stop longing for a lonely rotting singular
watching a name flung on the distant reef
9
APPLE ON THE GALLOWS
you take all year to imagine inserting the kernel stuck inside you
a revolving axle a kind of force you want to deny
can't deny autumn is a slow fire for death and hanging too
indigo logic that lifts you swaying in space
metres above the ground when flushed fruits hold their kernels and rub
wind touches you whoever wants to can touch you in this place
cold nails your inner being sweet limitless only then for yourself
rot has a handle clutching and smelling the fishy fragrance of sex
on a golden barb you hang yourself
metres above the world given over to the crudest brilliance
beak that sharpens its point knows where pecking is more mortal
pecks her broken flesh withered vibrating branch
two eyes that saw deep into the flesh on that first day
take the poetic of necessary death to make you imagine one fierce life
a detonated facial expression hanging and lonely
10
HOLY LILAC SEA
this instant is infinitely large flowers spurt at humans' end
in excitation purple of the sky white of the sea
drive out of the harbours on our flesh forced and opened
water is full of heartbeats water's bad luck is life-long touch
the stiff twitching tube buried in the flesh
April endlessly twisting nipple buds in its clutch
shipped our ignorance beneath splendid skin
purple and white expelled into the sky by the body's own dark
random aiming for the hasty rush to self-immolation
this instant the shine of shattered sex organs is a long look of goodbye
spring's perfume like smoke's smell silken parasols opening one by one
final day lowered into our mouth all your cries learning from a bird's
cry
only the body's image isn't enough at last a tear drop has fallen
leaving for the garden stars tenderly drifting
each breath of wind blowing away the ocean