It seems so slight a thing that you waved and smiled as if departure were less finale more seaside pantomime you a painted backdrop exeunt all except the windscreen glass obtuse and thick as a dead cathode tv the angular distortion smalling in that rough, jabbed elbow way of laughing sundrowned rivers bent and glistering as the fading edges of a dream don’t you wish you were never born you said then you could stay, then you could stay all that blood and living costs too much no deal you can make the road dust licking at tightrope martyred wrists in devils as the wheels groan turning on the sand a sound like the sea, and you in this dry rememberance not yet done with drowning
Tag: sea
heliconias & a winter sea
we squall
in the intimacy
of suddenly thrown rain
the fricate quieting, our humdrum metronome
where you watch (turned aside) an august ocean
spills in folly, the rampart swallowing seawall
thinking, perambulations, of the fools, deluged
silhouettes a regnant weight
calving waves with palsied lips
pared in the slingshot grin
between teeth girt, a swollen silence
past the nodding arcs
of grandiose reverberations
where you cast them
to the stone
in petulant pantomime
through a wild sea
the heliconias are flying
Aeroplanes
The beach is made of glass Walking backwards On the far side of the rain Footprints erase themselves In swiftly drawn tongues lapping I am inside my Melchizedek A message, overlong Stained with salt, curled within Break to find the ocean’s scrawl –Almost indecipherable We chastise to the whine and palsied shake of aeroplanes Bright and corkscrew shards Just a casual threat In the thought of sudden falling Now a sun-struck chisel mark In the poise of distance Almost gone
Beneath The Sun’s Chagrin
I want to see your face again
When you first saw the sea
The car seat smell drunk as the newly dead
Uneasy in their corrugations
The waves unmercifully high
Poised above the glassine under-swell
As if eternity were the stinging slap
Your dour grin collapsing
The shush of traffic slew
As if you had nowhere to hide
Just the fist clenched hope
Beneath a recalcitrant sun
That I will flee and sleek
With other shoreless creatures
Risking constant reiterations
Or, standing hard against the tide
Hips braced, chin askance
The sand a living thing beneath my feet
Hand raised to shield my eyes
Against your oncoming hail
I will burn and fall like anybody else
We crucified the whale
We made the shape in bowsprits Dovetailed, bolted tight Scrimmed and windlassed in the ink Of all our oceanly delights Fifty-six ells long, and the upright Measured twice, a golden mean Embedded in the earth To a sepulchre’s joist This world and the next In right-angled tandem Justice uttered on our lips Harpooned the beast With that pneumatic fleeing snake Watched it vomit up Ambergris like sacrament I think perhaps, the drowned preserved within Found at last release Drew it up in hawsers Netted in those snarling knots That shrink until the rope begins to cut Block and tackle an ugly face Double tongued, the bronze Gone to the verdigris Of brute seas In the ichor deep I am not sure If the heart Or time slows As the weight Of slumping water Only that The swelling aortic arch Is a bell Where the silence Of the god echoes Under the excruciating beat Of a slow approaching hammer Pierced the pale side For a crown, a strangler’s kelp The gulls in swooped laments We will eat this lord alive Rendered fat in slick fat slabs from jigsawed hide That stinking lard To light the blue-green evening With a flame’s slight harem dance Caught in the Salome writhe Of Antipas’s demand To keep the god at bay Watched the monster Burning bright For three days and three nights All came to see, and revel In his Vitas revelries After, almost completely gone Charred vines of rope Hung from the spars Still half asleep The waves in serry knelt A king tide about the crucifix The rigs of carnival drowned or gone I ash blind Augured, anvilled, awled On the creature’s back A sun-gilt morning road To another sea
A scintilla of desire
In the French film
Almost a thousand feet
A bright pinhole of light
The discomfiting sprocket sound
Girls sleep the shape of dunes
The shifting sands of innocence
In the uncertain distance
Horizon spilled into the sky
The azure
Hard as a mirage
With grains like glass
Where you hoped
For water
Minotaur colloquy
In the jasmine arbour Falling drunk and pierced through We count stars like days Breathe the breath of turning leaves The winter bronze of evening windows Pretty but, one day it will down this tree Like cowboy Theseus sprawled on the back Of the fleeing Minotaur In Excruciating slow motion It eats children (I say) At who’s behest? A ring hard through the nose Quite angry Daedalus made the place, trapped me here Chagrined at his son’s burnt wings Offered nothing, for repast, but disobedient youth Arrogantly immortal The sea is soft Later, in the mild afternoon I pick it up, (why are my hands so cold?) Artefacts of light In my skin as if Fish left ghosts Sand undermined In mute outrush, deflecting Wavering against The unsupporting air From bird-wheeling hands Cast it back I watch from halfway up the balustrade of your ribs Wondering if, at the top There is a rat’s maze Or some other unimagined land The bright day comes When you turn the shape of dunes We fall from the sea A blue goddess of such auguries Smoke, curling from her lip Lolling as she inhales Lithe beings of it Into her mouth and nose again In a pariah prayer of victory The villa has terracotta stairs Rising to the blemish of a cat A black sepulchre underneath The zigzag shadows sharp enough For suicide, or misadventure (The evidence always inconclusive) A mouse approach If you slip, a creature Languidly swishing A stain hesitantly creeps Down the angles Of this laughable geometry Where we hide, a horned beast Stamps its foot
By the enclosing sea
At the beach we fall like Carthage Tasting salt In the dunes butterflies grace Small stars on the bramble bush Bright as copper burning There is no one here but dreams of wanderers Worn as sea glass In twisted nubs that fire never made Green and agate against your lips A taste like mermaid skin, you say I say, as if For curling winds We bow our heads Your face big as the sea-lorn moon Pocked with hollow frowns A garland temple on your brow Pollen on your breath All fell down Two mouths make butterflies, of course Flying away In utter blue To wind-torn speechlessness