LEST WE FORGET Lovers lost to bombs, tanks, cannon fire and guns Earth covering the wounds where bitter hearts’ blood runs Salt whitened bodies hurled from broken ships ‘The Missing’ whispered tenderly on families’ lips Whose hopeless words bring no relief or peace Except in dreamless sleep or death they cease. Forgotten now, the fractured
Busker In this brick-hard cold you wonder how he presses cheese-slice strings down sure, how his steel-tipped fingers pluck enchanted sound and gift it to strangers like you. From a safe distance, you drop spare cash hear its tuneless tinkle while, far behind, notes of grace and his sideways smile follow you.
The Hipster…from Beth McDonough. The Hipster O, give me the firesides of farting old fuckers, whose crumpet kicks off with cocoa and jam. Eighty? He’s mine! I’ll slot in just fine — take me home. The Doric for socks? I don’t give a toss, but I see that they’re thick, and stuffed into boots, which
a warning to lovers don’t say your lover’s name aloud if you do people will hear in your voice the taste of their body the scent of their sweat the heat of your bodies meeting they will hear in your voice the bite of your fingers into flesh the sound of your name cried out
Legend Light stabs between the alder boughs the way it used to when we chased its hostile lances in a medieval game of knights and dragons. Now our fable is a comfort to me in my pantheon of dreams. No longer flesh, your spirit puts me to the sword and in the woods of my
Shoes Delivered fresh in a box like death in reverse shoes are born to walk from day one; stay dog-loyal if groomed, respond to stroke of sponge or bristle of brush and attach – second skin intimacy you can’t have with coats; protect, support and respect need for time and space to
Found From a crowded beach you pick this one – or this one looks up at you. One of millions, one alone. Wave upon wave has moved it to this shore you walk today. You turn its smooth weight in your hand, as it settles and warms. You notice its form,
Beginning Beautiful moments I couldn’t it would come back. A simple life old love long longing. I have always wanted to see all this again. Dreams come true beautiful beginnings. I will not think about what will happen in the end. No I just want to think about it. I want to end up like