Poetry

  • Carelessantumas Moi (fatima ex machina)
           careless           carelessant cul-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac    fool-de-sac           fool-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac for la and          I carela        la      lass Torqueing Torqueing obliqueing backareless of     my        Myopic hand    I carela   and-dime-a-dozen nickel-and-dime-a-dozen nickel         and          for new     things to ...
  • Sub Version (fatima ex machina)
    vile is         Seething the long thing           is     Histrion of       his Being is Histancestors run      redling dream box like the paradoxy of his Being the earthogonals thinger her for such Touch        Touch      Touch subversion oh but the man      never her seeing           thingering the hazed        lingther her ...
  • Petition for A Perpetual Motion Machine
    It has been many years, I am older they say wiser but I do not have the answer to the question of the day, just propositions, casual observations, listening to the mystery of the earth, then smiling amused, that the earth still turns under such weight you know one shouldn’t really care anymore as one gets older, but I go on, I obsess, I probe, I hold the oldest mysteries of the earth in ...
  • Spoken To The Colonies
    I do it in the night upon bedtime, in the quiet, my hands lay upon my womb, thereafter my breasts, I know where they lie, I can feel they throb, they squirm, they pop, and there is pain at times, so I do it in the night upon bedtime, in the heat of my hands I speak to them and they listen intently, for my blood is their blood, my life is their life they are colonies rather large, ...
  • Meditation Before A Fire
    My soul, my very tired soul, you are restless, you are angry, the to and fro of your anger, my soul, it is like the sudden death of a sprig, the blistering of stones against the might of the waves, anger like meat burning in the pot, a sudden change in religion from kindness to defiance too quick, too much, too angry, my soul pray the lines in my mind are horizontal, they are at rest, between ...
  • The Cloud
    it was time to get a new notebook computer, I thought it was ten in the morning the Power Mac Center looked desolate but I always loved their minimalist interiors sterile, like a bleeding edge hospital I scanned the shop for the notebooks and found them a row of MacBook Pro and MacBook Air lovely and I already knew what I ...
  • The Wireless Pig
    Her manner was most beguiling this woman who, by her appearance could not possibly have access to technology like ours clothes she had woven from bark and fibre shoes donated for flood victims busy texting on my iPhone she caught my attention she started talking about the man getting on the boat she spoke slowly, visibly disturbed, despondent a porky-looking man walking towards the ...
  • Run
    Running away does me good even if the pains and desires remain, it keeps me occupied, busy, folding and unfolding this dress, getting haircuts in different places, the many ways my skin responds to soft water here and hard water elsewhere, the scent of laundry, of sheets, of different beds, the visibility of the stars ...
  • When I grew up, and fell in love
    When I grew up, and fell in love I asked my sweetheart, “What lies ahead? Will we have rainbows, day after day?” Here’s what my sweetheart said “Que Será, Será” (1956) Livingston, Jay / Evans, Ray MANILA – An unidentified woman was found dead in an apartment Thursday with a stuffed dog wrapped tightly around her neck. The body, police ...
  • Prayer Before Hanging
    Here, the light has a different cast, it is deep, a struggler through the buildings and the smog of the city, it is easily forgotten amidst electric lights, and while this world is not unfamiliar to me (your name), its rare natural light is a recent discovery, a silent but faithful companion in my little ...
  • The guanyin cries please touch me not break me
    Tonight I can declare with this my voice of experience that it is sad being the guanyin, for as you may slightly be aware of, I have been sitting it out and containing myself, at times unsuccessfully, with the old man, I have endured many years and yes I am still here, still alive, knowing ...
  • Whatever Happens, F-, Forget the Blood
    To suppress this growing craving for blood, I consider the many distractions that would generally go unnoticed, for it is better to receive such things than to let the mind go jogging until one’s hands are soaked in red, it is civil certainly, to sit and write and listen to casual crooning, like the voice ...
  • White Fag Black Shag
    Ay! what might tempt this old white man when all old white men begin to stink, to frazzle and certainly to become such yawning bores that go on and on about their youthful exploits, about the same old things, about what could have been, about the same such things that consequently rule them and make ...
  • The Madonna of the Rocks
    Of all the faethers growing against the grain of God’s teeth, I am perhaps the most privileged, for to begin with my gift of madness is pure, it is not the result of shellshock or incest or the abuse of solvents, spirits and cough syrup, it is not an outcome of extreme poverty, hunger, sickness ...
  • These Days in Beauty
    The window curtains are for my own amusement, they are sheer and light and move with the slightest wind, and so they are like flags that make this room look rather stately, they flutter against the ceiling when the sea breeze comes and that eases the mind’s sadness, it is a bit like watching the ...
  • Walk Me Lightly in the Easy Daydream
    Where was I? Oh yes the dream of a pig rooting in the woods, sleep is a little better lately with some wort in the coffee so the winds blow less wildly in the mind, there is less chatter, less flickering of these teary eyes, I try to take walks now too so I am ...
  • The Temptation of an Old Man
    How perilous these sultry afternoons to my complacency! Here, now, my husband, so dirty from work in the fields, chatting about this and that, as sweat drips down my side, moistens my forehead and the top of my lip, my chin, my neck, lightly seeping into the dress I pleasured myself in this morning, my ...
  • The Next Encampment
    Most early waking this morning, my body still floating in a haze of the growing daylight, of a jumble of thoughts and feelings, my husband stirs beside me, well rested I hope so we could fuck, he reaches out to touch me and the luminous shell of my body breaks, like the black patch of ...
  • The Dream of a Pig in the Woods
    It is not so uncommon these days sitting on the balcony eyes darting from the cup on the table to the woven patterns on the wall, the floorboards and the straight lines from these to the corner to the wooden sticks behind the beams of the roof, while my mind wrestles with fluttering wings of ...
  • Country Bumpkin Blues
    Human trails of city slickerin livin, kinda orderly now than just four or so years ago Pavements moltin under the mornin sun, peddlers of all sorts, old and kid peddlers Peddlin plastic junk, plastic food, rice cakes, fresh boiled peanuts, flowerin orchids Traffic worker beckons peddlers outta the way, he goes to a 8 year old girl like ...
  • Dance, Haze, Faded
    The body curved rising from the haze. Like a ravine, tenuous, light. She tapped barefoot on the ground. Set the pace, rhythm, cadence. It was slow starting and rising. It was tense, nervous, surrender. But the heat of the midday calmed her. Sweat flowed, curved, cooled. Their eyes met for a moment. She lifted the hem of her dress. The ...
  • The Reflection
    There is little chance for reflection now. Other than the reflection of faces. I have known since the day of my birth. A cool distraction from my isolation. And the faces I’ve known as friends. Have disappeared into their worlds. Of shop-bought concerns, of busyness. There be no time, be no chance. When did I ever see it? The ...
  • The Invisible Woman
    He lifted the dress from the drawer. It was a long black polyester garment decorated with laser cut-outs across the shoulders and all around the skirt. The skirt lining glistened underneath and drew out the curly patterns of the matted cut-out fabric. Lyla looked on as her father pressed the dress to his body, smoothing the ...
  • The Other Man
    I got myself some make-up, lipstick and kohl, because I thought that I could make me pretty again, and feel pretty again, and some lovely dresses, like when I was younger, over a decade ago when I was free, when I met a man who seduced my mind and body, but I settled down too ...
  • The Angel (from “The Island”)
    when I met him for the first time he was this enormous wild beast I let him stay with me in that lovely house along the Mercier de Moulin it was midnight, the end of winter he walked all the way from the train station I opened the door, and there I saw him for the first time he took off his hat, shook ...