I could think of no other purpose,
Love.
They sang throughout the night
while I was found, in the garden.
It would be simpler, he said, if they would just remember me, but
there were too many of them.

‘With a ‘well, well, well,
what have we here?’ I can enter any room
with confidence, hand on hip
[the Nurse called from within]

It reminded me of the idiots and ghouls
between myself and myself,
while I scratched like a cat.

What a piece of junk!
But I think that it will be enough.
The whole world was changing in those days while the haze reminds me of leaves,
and of you.

You are standing in a garden.

This is a poem for the anger
I keep coiled around my ribs
Because I was taught that anger is an absinthian poison
That will rise like bile in the throat and must be swallowed.
And I realize you may read this
And you may be angry
But I realize with each crunch of bone
I must give myself the space
To uncoil in this way.

I am angry
That you made me a captive reservoir
for the bitter droughts you refused to drink yourself.
You were iron-stomached after years of punches,
that I understood.
Open handed, I wanted to be the exception
But holy palmer’s kiss
Was still not enough to let me cross the threshold.
You are the locked room in the house that the children are forbidden
Only small glimpses between hinges
Of your fear poisoned self
Huddled in a corner, vomiting apologies.

I am angry
for believing I could have lain beside you
every night for the rest of my life
And not starved to death from loneliness.

I am angry
for ignoring how I dimmed each time I waited for you
to want me, to miss me, to think of me,
to ask me to come into your arms,
to find me fascinating, enchanting
to tell me you needed me;
to betray anything that proved I was more than convenience,
A drink that served itself on a silver platter,
Asking to be drunk.
If you only knew how luminous I could be
when loved well.


I am angry
That I still hope you will be waiting by my door after work
because you realized how you starved me
And now you’ve set a banqueting table, a banner over me is love
But I know you will never do this.
I know you cannot do this.
I am angry
that I miss only the space you left,
That I have not yet been able to close the gap
And walk away from your memory.

Green shoots,
little shocks of brilliance
from mouths so oft distracted
tis a wonder they’re not more malnourished

the courage to give an opinion
on long dead white kings of literature
who speak Christ knows what but it ain’t English
is, as they themselves may say, lit

my tired soul has read the lines so oft
I feel peppered for all this,
so finding out Romeo is now a simp,
has the hot blood stirring again

I am a poet,
I create my own wings
And weave a world,
While hurtling
towards the ground.

The feel of the soft sand
On your feet replaced with pebbles.
Uncomfortable, probably therapeutic.
Read me poetry. Recite it from memory
If you like. I'll be your Juliet. Say it's
Our wedding night. That'd be laugh.

There's a town behind us.
Invisible hand. Economics.
It probably matters to some people
But I don't regard money, I'm a poet
Juliet. I look at the sea. I don't
Understand money. All Greek to me.

Socrates. Democracy. Will you ever
Slow down? Ever understand that
The grey sea is not a metaphor for
Your state of mind, it's a trick of the
Light. Calm down Romeo. You're
Not a poet. You're a wreck.

Kiss me Juliet. Whoever you may be.
Dance a slow dance, against pebbles
Instead of sand. I, your Romeo
Will write you a poem against
The grey sea, sky, state of mind.
It's a shame you're so far away.

Will I ever see your face?
You're so far away. Not
Across the sea. Behind
Me. Three hundred kilometres
Away. Makes me want to
Fall asleep. Fall asleep.

Send me a text Juliet.
Answer me. I'm looking
Out to sea. Good 4g.
Town behind me,
I'm not there.

I'm nowhere. Come to me.
End this sick ballad
Before I fall asleep.
Grey sea. All around me.
**** society. Don't let me
Fall asleep. I don't want to fall asleep.
Don't want to see you drift
Into sea like the old Juliets did.
Sick production. Sick. Sick.
The work of a Philistine. The kiss was forced,
Felt like his Juliet was in
Liverpool. Disgusting place
Until you were born Juliet.
Come to me. Recite poetry
By the sea. This is a sad
Ballad, so much self pity.
Let me be with you Juliet.
Let's run far away before
I fall asleep. Oh life without you,
Makes me want to fall asleep.

what was it you saw in her?
so fast, when you claimed to love me?
how could it have been so deep
that you forgot what we had instantly?

you saw her for seconds,
Talked to her for minutes,
then by some strange justification decided
You Loved Her.

I don’t know if it was partly my fault,
pushing you away, but I only pushed you away because I knew how we’d end.
I’ve seen it before, and will see it again.
no loss for you, no heart, no law,
No light breaks through my window anymore.

my life line moves across
your chest
your love line inches towards
my lower back
reading your palms
under the thin covers
summer air blows into our hair
permeating the smell
of grass and warm flowers

we embrace
the unknowable future crushed
between our palms.