this mis
fortunate
bitch
may never
walk again
something
with the nerves
they say
perhaps
the spine
suffered
some trauma
whimpering
occasionally
she sleeps
until they
come for her
again
the nose
flares
forelimbs
scrabbling
dreamt
earth
*
the crying
goes on
and on
it might
be comforted
by some
attention
relief for
hunger
thirst
the warmth
scents
sounds
of a familiar
body
for lack
of these
uninterrupted
simply
it continues
on and
on
*
for Lynne Clibanoff
fissuring
faulting
jointing
crack
thundifferentiated
to an interlock
of vaults
boxes
rooms
rivers
their
walls
stone
furniture
stone
air
diviners
sense
the strike
or dip
when over
charged
a perched
table pitches
afflicting
property
overwhelming
thirst
*
successively
each emperor's
doubles were
assassinated
then
himself
therefore
this stratagem
our latest
emperor
was chosen
secretly
no-one
informed
not even
the elect
it worked
somewhere
he lives
obscurely
on
quite
unaware
he is
a god
*
court
tombs
constitute
our earliest
examples
local sites
exhibit small
side chambers
transepted
galleries
only the
largest
slabs
remain
fallen
displaced
smaller stones
purloined for
nearby walls
or roadworks
the ideal form
exists
in imagination
only
*
they found
a bucket
filled
with tears
now they demand
whose property
is this
who so
decries
their state
no need
they say
not now
so why this
weeping
without owner
function
future
why these tears?
*
in answer
the child
is told
heaven
is furnished
with wonders
never seen on earth
without the least
trace
of the familiar
a sun
that barks?
fists
of clenched
water?
blonde
plaited
hearts?
no! all
too stale
absence
of contestation
*
hollowing
out the
darkness
nesting
there
sheeted in
with glass
wood lead
and with gold
or silver
skins
bookbinders
endpapers
or fabric
for matting
are still lifes
memories
gardens
listen
uncertain
steps return
always at
night
*
pot-bellied
thread-throttled
vomit-eaters
turd-lickers
void-pickers
vapour-swallowers
law-gobblers
water-slurpers
high-hopers
tip-topplers
spittle-hoovers
wig-eaters
blood-sippers
carnivores
smoke-sniffers
pus-dabblers
shit-twitchers
subterraneans
wonder-junkies
flare-burners
colour-fanciers
beach-bums
basket-cases
infant-eaters
cum-suckers
demoniacs
pyrophages
street-filth
wind-snackers
scald-tasters
toxin-takers
meadow-dwellers
ash-eating-tomb-trash
twig-perchers
street-corner-snorters
suicides
*
for Marrie Mooij
always
different
isn’t it?
even though
you sketch
the structure
beforehand
even after all
childhood
spent aloft
or dreaming
outbursts
of limbs
branching
surprises
and always
from the highest
twig
the redbreast
calls you
sweetly
up
*
they laid
them
regular
in rows
they brought
the worst
to tents
where skilled
men lopped
off what was
judged
unserviceable
a wagon
stood
behind
weighted with
superfluous
extremities
the legs
were shod
and stockinged
still
Trevor Joyce
>>>David Lloyd
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