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THE LAST ONE TO KNOW

He smiles
in the mirror.

His reflection
does not smile back.

He raises his left hand.
His reflection does not.

He raises his right hand
and scratches his nose.

His reflection does not.

His reflections laughs.

He does not.

"I'm afraid you're dead!
his reflection tells him."

"Only you....
...don't know it yet!"

His reflection steps out of
the mirror

no longer made of glass
free to be whoever he wants to be

instead of being chained
to this human.

The reflection leaves.
Slams the door.

The body on the floor
does not even hear him

. . .go. . .
MISS PRUFROCK REGRETS

in the loo
the women come and go
talking of Michael & "Oh...Angelo!"

knickers down around
her ankles
she pees& weeps...weeps&pees

her running mascara
turning her into
a giant panda

she tries to put
her smile back on
the Shady Lady lipstick breaks

her mouth
a jagged ****
making her a scary clown

she locks her self
in her golden compact
it snaps at her fingers as it shuts

"Oh fu..fu...fu..!"
she bites her bottom lip
endeavouring not to( "Feckit!" )swear

the loo door opens
she can hear THE MERE MAIDS
singing...singing

"Come with me my love
to the sea
the sea of love..."

the loo door closes
THE MERE MAIDS fade
"oh oh oh...oh. . . OH!"

her friends come to
powder their noses
***** about her

she stops peeing
in mid-flow
a solitary tear trickles over her nose

their vicious laughter
stabs at her heart
their cruelly coloured chatter

"And her dress that
trails along the floor..."
And this...&...so much more

"And ah ha ha when
she spilled the yogurt over her
shirt...skirt!"

"It looked like someone
had ohhhhhhh
come all over her!"

"I know...I know
I almost wet
myself!"

"How her hair is
growing thin"
a squeal of high pitch giggles

"And her arms and legs as well!"
these her friends
putting the knife in

"She's such a bore!"
her best friend chimes in
"Et tu Bunty?"

they leave en masse
the many headed
beast

THE MERE MAIDS
are murdering
Kylie's CAN'T GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD

I have measured out
my life in facebook friends
do I dare...delete them?

And do I dare...
go back in...greet them
false face to false faces

in the lamplight
her upper lip downed with
light brown hair

I am..yes...I am
that cockroach
scuttling across these toilet tiles

she pulls her knickers up
the elastic snaps
they fall to the floor

she steps out of them
sniffles...sniffs
tries to maintain a stiff upper lip

"Let us go then you & I..."
she tells her reflection
her reflection doesn't budge

"Just...what is it...about me!"
overwhelmed by her own
question

she prepares her face
the mirror
sniggers

she parts her hair behind
puts it up in bunches
smile...scowls

I know...I know...I am
almost at times ridiculous
almost at times...the Fool

she goes back into
the solitary confinement of
the toilet cubicle

smokes her last
crushed cigarette
flushes the **** down the loo

"Toilets is an anagram for T.S. Eliot!"
the scrawled graffiti informs her
she doesn't get it

lapses back into
her native lingo
"J'en ai marre d'en avoir marre!"

the Disco ball
tears the shadows and the souls
out of the dancers

THE MERE MAIDS are singing
'I'M TOO **** FOR MY CAT!"
her ****** friends sway together as one

Mademoiselle Prunella Prufrock
has left
the building

in the loo
the women come & go
talking of Michael & of "Oh...that Angelo!"

*

A friend's story telling me about the first time she had been out after losing a baby and singing THE SEA OF LOVE at a karoke. We both loved Prufrock and so her favourite poem and her favourite song were going to be the world she was put into!
AND THERE WAS ME WITHOUT AN I

Time dawdles
stretches out the crash
to an infinity of now

casually I watch the car
crash into my side
as if it were someone else's story

car runs red light
the crash about to happen
taking...its. . .( time )

I watch my door buckle
as if an invisible monster
wanted to eat its way to me

time...finally(stops):
I fade to black
karate chopped from luggage from the back

I drink up unconsciousness
thirsty for
the oblivion it brings

the world leaves me now
even my thoughts
don't even know me

I am no more
a me
without an I

"You knocked. . ?"
Death asks politely
"No..just...passing through!"

Life swims back to me
from a distant
horizon

"Hey!" shouts Life
"It's me!"
"Do I know you?" I ask  

*

Back in '85 when I was a bookseller and we were returning from a bookfair in Belfast( and where I also saw Nic Roeg introduce his new movie INSIGNIFICANCE ). We stopped at the lights and I glanced casually to my left to see a car jump the lights and head for( in slow slow )motion( me ). I had an eternity to gaze upon my apparent demise. Our folding shelves in the back all shifted forward and my lights went out!
COME VIENE...VIENE!
(WHAT COMES...COMES!)

for Paolo Sandulli

The sun is
preaching her sermon

to the town
of Praiano

that clings to the cliffs
in wonder.

Here in her hand
of light & water

she tells the parables
of pebbles.

One wave waves to another
as she walks upon the water.

Bells undress Time
disrobe her of her hours.

Lemons grow
big-bellied on branches

pregnant
with yellow.

The juice
of the Future

praying in a church
of trees.

Here, a congregation
of butterflies & bees.

Grapes dream of being
turned into wine.

Figs ripen
with pleasure.

The gods of pagan times
survive

disguised as statues.

I only believing
in the religion of

a woman’s
laughter.

And even now
as darkness

grows
upon the rose

it’s as if
the sunlight never leaves

only changes
colour

and the sunlight darkens
only to blossom

into the next morning
in love with Time.

*

This was written for the Italian artist/ceramic sculptor Paolo Sandulli who has a studio in an old Saracen tower overlooking Praiano called Torre a Mare.

His work and his workplace are magical and deliciously fantastic making the mind smile and the soul laugh as he creates a

NUOVE MITOLOGIE MEDITERRANEE

with his love of place and people. Delightful and enthralling.

Check out Paolo's creations at p.sandulli@alice.it

The title in the English version comes from the Italian menu which is the chief's surprise...eh...what comes...comes..ok? The title like Paolo's work amused me so much that it became the poem's name. The dish itself was a pizza with a midrash of everything and anything.

CHE COSA SI FA

Il sole è
la sua predicazione predica

alla città
di Praiano

che si aggrappa alle scogliere
a meraviglia.

Qui in mano
di luce e acqua

racconta le parabole
di ciottoli.

Una ondata onde ad un altro
come lei cammina sulle acque.

Campane spogliarsi Tempo
disrobe della sua ora.

Limoni crescere
grande-addome su filiali

incinta
con il giallo.

Il succo
del Futuro

pregare in una chiesa
di alberi.

Qui, una congregazione
di api e farfalle.

Uvaggio sogno di essere
trasformata in vino.

Fichi maturi
con piacere.

La divinità pagane di volte
sopravvivere

dissimulata come statue.

** solo credere
nella religione di

una donna
risate.

E anche adesso
come il buio

cresce
la rosa

è come se
la luce del sole non lascia

solo le modifiche
colore

e la luce del sole si oscura
solo a fiore

nella mattina successiva
in amore con il tempo.
SLOVO LJUBAVI
(THE WORD OF LOVE)  

Here I am
nailed to this hated bed

with the bright shiny
nails of cancer.

Death smiles
& wants to take me

as his
bride

but I
remain unfaithful
to him

elope with life
(if only for this night)    

spending golden moments
as if there were no

tomorrow.

I fling my laughter
in his big stupid grinning face

as if he thinks
this is all a human is

a something to be
taken.

I hope to sneak out
when he is not looking

or looking the other way

before he discovers me
alive in your heart

(untouchable)    

my memory
safe in your memory

so that to **** me
he will have to **** you too.

So beware my friend
you will become

a marked man

& Death
cheated of my soul

will hunt you
down

and rip me from
your heart

to finish the job.

But I know
you will
hide me

hide me
among your words

little seeds
of me

that will propagate

so that Death
would have to **** the whole world.

I laugh to see
the little seedlings

of me
sprout in other

minds
other voices

see my laughter
blossom

on  a strange
tongue

unknown to me
but known

Death furiously
glaring.
AND I WAVE BACK

Outside the hatch
he turns slowly

and talks

but I can't make out
the words he says

they fall from his lips
dangle and float in space

outside the backyard fence
a hill grabs the moon

and then slowly
lets it go again

the moon floating just
out of reach

laughs; 'Go on...do that again! '
the hill smiles: 'Just you wait... just you wait! '

the moon beams
as a little bird

gingerly(as if at first unsure)
steps out into space

and then
finds flight
take hold of it

as if
it had only discovered it that minute

and absconds with
the darkness

barks

and falls
into silence

and then another part
of the darkness

barks back

held
in a gentleness

a leaf tiptoes
down the breeze

as if descending
a spiral staircase

Time holds
its breath

outside
the hatch

flat on his back
the earth a little blue ball he has let go of

the astronaut

slowly turns
and waves

& I
wave back.
THE MAKER OF MAPS

throw the sheet over her
start tracing her contours
"I'm making a life size map of you!"

it has to be a scale of 1:1
the map
creases with laughter

after:  we hang this
map of you upon the wall
"Mapmaking tickles!" she tells me

"Well...time for the real thing!"
I consult the map
set out to explore you

my fingers
those brave mountaineers
scale your left breast

ahhh this view of you
worth the climb
my fingers rest

and so I begin the descent
the map telling me
where to go
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