I derive the deer dares death
with every sprint 'cross darkened tar,
every race with glowing eyes,
every stare off with the car

And thus, there must be some desire
deemed worth the heavy price
of death and ****
through fog and branch
only doll-eyed deer did care
Did heaven spill wine over moss ?
Some delight worth life, I wonder
Does love await, across the stretch?
Do sirens call, skin to undress?

And is there victory, I ponder
for doe that dodge, that dream,
that yearn, that reach the far off call?
Yes, I conclude, I believe, I do
The deer defeats death, it does
with each defiant, driven breath,

'til hunter comes with ***** hands
cause ***** work, it is indeed
to aim at love, to pull and shoot
silly deer should've known
'twas from the start, doomed
don't play games with death, oh doe
Cause death doesn't like to lose,
you know

Eternity and nothing meant much the same to me,
I couldn't hold either in my hand
It was always that something in between
That silly, impermanent thing
Gone soon,
But here now
That gentle ache and ****
That delicate flame at the end of the wick
Bright enough to only see the immediate
Present
That in between which fit so perfectly
In my hand

He is tall with limbs that stretch like  
         roots,
     Eyes and teeth and ears sing joy
  ‘What does love feel like?’
He asked my friend
Her nose twitches, her ears spike up
Like a bunny offered a carrot
  ‘Like a deep breath in
       Like walking through the door,
           And dropping your bags.
              You're home.’
                  Exhale
She smiles so bright, I'm sure
she has swallowed the sun
   ‘What does love feel like?’
He asks me
    ‘Bug under a boot.’
Exhale

I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger,
Before you had bled yourself dry.
I'd like to know the kinder you,
The softer you,
To be me and you,
You and I.
I imagine myself saving you,
Shielding you,
Keeping you
I could bottle the ocean for you
But it would only make you thirst more
And I would cut out my eye had I looked at you wrong
But you'd no longer think I was pretty
I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger,
When fists were only for bumps
And paper, scissors, rock
When my bruises came only
From climbing trees and beanstalks
I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger
Before the sun had scorched you red
The burn that returned in your anger
The burn that you kissed on my cheek
The youth are richer,
You know as well as I
I wish I met you younger
When eyes were dry

I'm so tired of burning myself on the same fire
Coughs, chokes, splutters on my fur
The twigs I set alight
and the gasoline I chug

I feel so sick
I am so sick
I want to go home
Will you take me home?
Mum just pick me up one more time
I'll keep in line, stay in my lane
Won't take up your time
Counting my seconds as you count my crimes

I want to be angry no longer
I'll give up my fight and retrace where I've stood
Throw my boxing gloves down,
I want to be good,
I want to be good.
I'm so tired of yelling
My knuckles are bruised and they ache
My kettles been boiling with each birthday cake
And I'll stay in my cage
Wear my muzzle with pride
And I'll sit when I'm told
And never again bite

Rip off my spider legs
Each ligament one by one
And rid me of my venom as I praise the rising sun
And may only ash be left
In my arson fires set
I want to be newborn fresh

I'm ready to start again.

The Angels will weep at your grave
O boy, do you hear them as you roll
In your mud?
They will sing, heard by no one
Except you mother–
And she will know,
she will know

No good can remain in this world
without you, boy– O boy
The bees will ***** only bile.
The world will lose a billion pounds.
The lilies will wilt ,
and the alphabet song will lose its
joyous melody

You never learnt what algebra meant
and maybe nobody ever does
You were a chef with your mud pies,
a soldier for your sister,
and a monkey when you climbed.
You worked harder than most of us,

Boy, O boy–
perhaps you didn't miss much
No, you didn't lose a single thing
by taking flight when you did
But we,
who live on this rotting earth,
we who only live to work and sleep
we, cruel and violent beings
we lost you, boy

Boy full of dreams
with dirt beneath your nails,
and dirt all over, now.

There is nothing romantic about a coward.
Even the deer stares her killer
in its glowing
eyes ‘for the screech and the crash
There is nothing romantic about a coward
who hides on the roof under
stalks of flax
I know, I know
The paperweight upon me,
The past that condemns me
I know, I know
I pay the debts of my father
I know, I know
I am my father's daughter
There is nothing romantic about a coward.
Picks, relies, leaves, betrays
Kisses the weaker man
Nothing romantic about a coward.
Lend his heart your calloused hand
There is nothing romantic about a coward
Mama would you tuck me in
one last time?
Forgive me
I know, I know
The dignity that flees
The fear that whispers
   You're mine
You're     mine