august 2016
(i)
...why, once more, does this inky scalpel
scratch its morbid graffiti
its chain of rusting, unforgiving lies
across my neck
is it not enough that I begin
to haemorrhage syllables and fats
to bleed acronyms
and watch conversations swell from the wound
why indeed does this delicate hate
always ooze out across the room
until existence is totally dismembered
by graffiti, by the unforgiving pages
that quietly soak the blood
from the corners of my eyes
why, because each word
must lash out at the void
each incision must strip the unknown
for every idea, every scratch
is truly an act of desperate surgery
an unanswerable love
that rises from the wound across my neck
the unforgiving passion to bleed...
(ii)
...there is, it seems, an epic bitterness
that constantly weeps from my breasts
its dark milk runs down my thighs
staining the sheets
covering my clothes with its black appetite
is it my own frenzy
my own powerless vanity
that, at any cost, must
butt aside this unsightly blindness
which stands rooted to my face
or is this pool of black milk at my feet
not a sign of the world’s slow evil
of some immense, lonely peace
as silent as the sun is silent
the dark tide covering the rocks
an ocean of blind milk
bitter to touch, bitter to see
my breast’s black hunger
a love unlike any other...
(iii)
...we are this earth’s destructive sacrifice
its bewildering, dull hunger
we are its desperation, its obsession
to hold light in our teeth
we are the cunning intercourse with mountains
the smiles that openly crave sex
we are the slovenly metaphysics
the children left dying in the rubble
we are the augmented love
the language that never speaks
the verses that were never written
and the minds that were never born
we are this earth’s torn veil
its pious, anodyne hatred
we are the burning in our eyes
the cunning sun, the graven smiles
the blood that rises onto the page
as we try to sweeten the word hypocrisy
we are the last universe left
the glowing fossil that tore the world apart
we are humanity
call us anytime...
(iv)
...long ago the talons of the unknown
sank deep into my back
where they have remained
chaste and immoveable
my psyche, a gorgeous bird of prey
an infectious theory
that watches the veins in my hand
as they rise and fall
for it has been my intimacy
with this creature’s promiscuous eyes
that forced me to eat trees
to dance with pigs
listen to the wilderness
and yet still be none the wiser
a disturbed inmate of the unknown
I am therefore clearly in danger
of screaming pain out beyond the earth
beyond the claws
beyond my sometime-hazardous psyche
its relentless intimacy
crawling from the bird’s throat
my ignorance like vomit
out beyond the earth
the agony of the wilderness
the agony that spins the veins in my hand
with no choice but to rise and fall...