Monthly Archives: April 2014

Tenement

The old laurel tree is like a

dark tenement full of

rackety lodgers who come for a

season then flit by daylight,

perpetually noisy, crawling with vermin,

forever squabbling, prone to

robberies during which

children are murdered,

alarms going off all day and

into the dusk, but no

police called and always

surprisingly sweet singing at the

dawn of another day.

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Dawn Barrage

Dawn Barrage

Everything explodes, all
Earth’s artillery going off,
shooting everywhere
indiscriminately.

Cartouche

My name means “Crown” in a foreign tongue

though I doubt my parents knew it,

or that they hoped one day to

witness my Coronation, but I might have been

De-tan-a-ma-ka (He Who

Stands Alone With His Gun) or

Ahmose (The Moon Is Born).

 

My sister was Mukantagara

(Born During War) but remains plain Cathy;

my daughter could be

Piotopowaka (Bird Who

Came Home) but is content with

Battle-Maiden, though her battle is

with health; perhaps I should be glad

my wife is not Coth-co-co-na

(Cutting Off Head Woman), though

sometimes it’s a close call when I am

Cutapuis (Doesn’t Talk).

 

Perhaps we should all choose another name,

something to describe ourselves in all our

glory, folly, love, hate, madness; in all the

richness of our successes and failures; in all the

dripping excess of our humanity;

something to sum us up like a

cartouche chiselled into a sun-baked tomb.

Amen

It’s one of those times when

some sort of light clings on

even as it should be night

as hands are sometimes

disinclined to part

as lips seem sometimes

stuck together in the

hesitant silence of the

nearly-night when love is the

amen to all prayers.

Blackbird Wars II

We have a problem, the

blackbirds and I, since having

fought many savage battles for the

juicy plunder herein, they now

chirp like cheap car-alarms

whenever I appear, fly

aggressively close, shit

copiously, marking my garden as

theirs now, and given how

wild and overgrown it now is

maybe they are right.

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