March 29th, 2011

crumpet2

And tonight a love poem

Monsters

Tiny velociraptors hunting mice
scrape vicious claws inside my bedroom wall
and you won't answer when I try to call.
Giant ground-walking moths grown fat on rice

spilled in my kitchen cupboard flop around.
And you ignore me, even if we meet,
will toss your hair around or cross the street.
There is a spectral snapping tearing sound

The raptors eating moths, or just perhaps
they mate. I miss soft kisses on my skin
Small creatures make such an appalling din
it sounds as if the walls will soon collapse

We bit and fucked and tore ourselves apart
in all four breaking chambers of my heart.
crumpet2

And a poem about Saturday

Prudence

Still, empty streets. Tendrils of grey smoke wisp.
Elsewhere a siren screams. And broken glass
crashes. And then two large black vans loom past
turning a corner. The bright day turns crisp.

Rain spots my face. I walk a while, and yells
surround me. Black striped face in a black hood
shouts slogan I can't hear. Smell of fast food
oiled noodles. And my vague impression jels

into a sense of getting elsewhere fast.
Men in dark visors beat upon their shield
and stamp until their human spirits yield
to anger, force. I shrink as they rush past.

My half-blind eye streams. Once I might have fought
for all the great good causes I support.