Red

I stand in the kitchen

With my eyes

Shut

In my place

But not

In my place

I have run out of soldier's blood

It drips

Red

To the end

Of my finger

Tips

I clean

Up

Up

I clean

To reclaim

What is

Loss

Empty

Powder

Dust

Mine

Stomach blown

Eyes

Full

drip drip drip

Possibility

Bed

No phone

End of sheet

Red

Possibility

I keep one week

One week of red

Not to stand up

Up

To

You

But quietly

Shh

For me

I write our prayer in pencil

For you

Dry

Run out

Red

Like

Old blood

Strong blood

Soldier blood

Our blood.                    

Comfort

The bells bend

On the back of the wind

Outside the supermarket

Queue

I change my feet

My heart

Bends

I would rather lean

With the birds

And the dead sheep

Its head broken

On the back of the tree

The bird can not land

Stuck in flight

Wings bent

I did not make the flight

stuck stuck sticky

To the metal rail

To the bridge

To the wind

Wind so strong

Nothing can take off

Or land

I change my feet

The horrible man shakes his head at me

Like I am bad

I know I am bad

My heart

Bends

I prefer time in numbers

Not

In hand

stuck stuck sticky

I meet St Peter

Behind the supermarket

He holds my hand

As the water

Fills my bed. 

Buried

There is powder

Buried in the bed

It keeps me safe

It keeps

Me

Softly

Buried

Under

I see the hill

I ran

Down

Trippedy Trip

Slip

Fall

It would be so easy

To get

It

Right

Like the wind on the bridge

I pass over

Water

Thick as butter

Heavy as breath

A hardship

To out run

To run out

The thoughts

Are in the same place

Up the hill

Struggling

On the tide

Buried in the bed

I do not need the sound to hear it

I do not need the words to feel it

Every electric

Pulse

Echoes

From brain to finger

Tip

There is powder buried in the bed

It keeps me safe

It keeps

Me

Softly

Buried

Under.

Warning

It must have been a rough night

The dead bird is on the floor

Again

Trip

Bang

Warning

Dangerous

Drop

The only thing

Dropped

Is

My

Face

Hurts

As it falls

On the carpet

Take a look

At the sun

It will be done

Soon

Packed up

Fedexed

With the last traces of rainbow

Dust

I am still going

A railing not quite strong enough

To

Stop

Me

Feeling

Sick

We were told to close our eyes

But we saw

We

Saw

Everything

A vapour trail of

Heat

I will wear my necrotic crown

Like an asbestos container

It must have been a rough night

The dead bird is on the floor

Again.

Drop

We eat orange and lemon

Drops

Let the sugar dissolve

On our tongue

As if it is

Lavish

My face

Aches

Like

A

Dead

Weight

Dangling

On cord

From the post

We see

When we walk

On the iced path

Watch out

Watch out

Cross the road

With your eyes closed

We would like to

Drop

Drops

But we don’t want to fall

It has to be right

Like

Sugar

Like

Orange and lemon

Drops

Rich

Delicious

We eat sweets

Like powder

Hide in our pockets

Sit on the wall

We are so past normal

We are just that

Nothing to see

Move on

If only the world would stop

And see us

Wrapped in our

Orange and lemon

Drops.

Watch

Who are you

He asks

Takes a drag of his cigarette

We think of names

Tried on

Used

Abandoned

This is Alice

I stumble

And I

I am not sure who I am

He smokes

We can not move

Perhaps we will wait for him to tell us

Who

We

Are

The hand print stains the wall

The hand print stains my face

Thud

That is who I am

But there is no word for that

No name

We hit the ground

Small footsteps

Fast

Up the hill

To nowhere

We can not breathe

By the time we reach the bench

As if we have swallowed down all his smoke

And we have

We have

We shake our head

I can not change the time

They have set

Twist it up

Like chaos

It will tick tick away

Until I am gone

Until there are no more questions

I can not answer

We shake our head

Alice, I whisper

Even

When he is gone

When you are gone

When I am gone

There will be no name

For who I am

For what I am

The tears drop to my boots

Her tiny fingers brush them away

She kisses my brow

You do not need a name, she whispers

You are you

All that I need

All that I am. 

Buttons and Bows

I swallow buttons and bows

To make myself pretty

You know

The mirror broke

Wore away

Like his face

Her feet

On cold stones

Bare

Like a harvest

She wraps the new glass

In brown paper

I don’t want to undo it

Unwrap what she gave me

Look up

There are colours in the sky

Fluid as the turn of the helicopter

Blades

The cloud

Sat plump on the water

The supermarket crashed

Thud

The sound of the glass

Dropping

The sound of the blade

Dropping

The sound of the penny

Dropping

You’ll be alright in a minute

You know I won’t

Forever more shall be

Conquer your hunger

It says

On the telephone box

As if it knows the battle

Of me

Walking by

Buttons and bows

Will not suffice

I think

And so I turn to powder and pins.

  

Pigeon

This blood thing

Is just between us

You hold the blade

I hold the sink

Pigeon washes in the river

I wash in spit and cold water

Never quiet

Never quiet

I don’t think Birdman speaks either

The smell comes through my coat

Never clean

Never clean

But the black blood

Collected

Under cloth

The smell of erosion

Is like flowers

On my lips

Like his breath

Caught in my hand

We don’t take our coats off

We don’t have to

We no longer belong to the world

Always moving

Always outside

No place

To rest

To stop

It is like there are secret words

I must find

And when I find them

I must say them

And when I say them

They will let me stop

Let me rest

So many words

Burst my head

Make me want to fall on the river

Bed

And wash

Myself

Clean

Like pigeon

Just between us

I do not want this blood thing

I want the secret words.

Always

We need to make some skeletal re-arrangements

Realign

Reassign

I lose my footing in the coffee aisle

Clickety click

Snap my shoulder

All bones click

Like dead letters

Pulling under the skin

Let me out

Let me out

Cries Alice

We all fall down

Except we don’t

I don’t

Faint

Fall down

Clear up aisle nine

Wouldn’t that be good

I clench the tissue in my pocket

Press the metal

wake up wake up

Except we don’t

I don’t

Ever

I run my tongue over my lips

There is rust in my mouth

The taste of bad days

Or where they good

We can’t decide

I can’t decide

It still tastes better than reality

In some ways

In the mirror

Six o’clock

I do not want this

I do not want this

Alice prods me

Gently

Pulls the bones

Bashes my spine

wake up wake up

she says

i say

it will always be this

we will always be this

i will always be this

Alice i ask

Please clear up aisle nine.

Story

I sit in a room

Where my future

Is not

Where my future

Is in a book

White spine black letters

Can I stop now

Please

I would like to read that book

Until the end of time

But a story cannot be told

Only lived

I am just a name

Not a story

Maybe not even that

Not a sound

Not a letter

Nothing

Something

Quite terrible

Perhaps the last page was burnt

Many times ago

The ash and wax

Stick to sound

To letters

Insensible

Indecipherable

Misplaced

If I choose the lock

I will write a paper key

If I choose the flame

It will never stop

There is no choice

Not really

My feet stand in a flood of words

Shuffled up like bilge

Picking

So hard picking out  

Something new

That book cannot be left in the room

On the shelf

It moves

Behind me

Unknown

Familiar

Already told.

Cold

There is a green light

In the grey building

Toothless Joe

Is on a different bench

Not bench B

He waves like he really wants to see me

It’s a motion I am not used to

I have no place to go but walk quickly

We are all good

We are all good

We are servants of the sanctuary

I go in the grey building

It is cold

The breath falls on the prayer paper

Makes it curl

Paper groaning under the weight of

Hope

There is none

I know

I have no place here

I have no place anywhere

I sit and wait

Sit and wait

All I do

As if some vision will give me purpose

Thought

Warmth

Four hours I sit

In the empty bath

quiet quiet quiet

don’t make a sound

if you make a sound you’ll wake him and when he wakes he won’t stop never stop

no peace

no silence

nothing

just time replayed

different man

different place

same fear

I walk quickly

I have no place to go

Maybe I should go back

To toothless Joe

Take his wave and wrap it round my shoulders

He knows

We are servants of the sanctuary

empty

hollow

cold.

Without Word

This is the time of the white earth

I am not afraid

It will pass

Everything passes

And fades

Two years back I read the book

About the first age

It made no sense to me

Time still passed

Behind the doors

No matter if the words fell

Forwards

Or back

I have been out for thirteen days

The white van comes

I hear the bell

Freeze

It takes my clothes away

I am still inside

The black shirt

I ran

In

I am still inside

I put the nails

In the door

The second age is halfway past here

It chases us up the hill

Through the grass

We slip breathe cry in the hedge

Don’t see us

Please

We have to move

For the purple

That keeps our heart beating

Like the cloak on the shoulders of the dead queen

Purple drowning

White fur

The old lady makes up the flowers

Her hands knotted

Like vines around brown paper

She passes them to me

Without word

I give her the water

We run

When it is dark

Lay the flowers

Keep the paper

He was born

When I was born but left

At one day

He did not see the first age

Or the second age 

He did not see me

His name

His name is enough

This is the time of the white earth

I am not afraid

It will pass

As everything passes

And fades.

Dorothea

The post is called Dorothea

1531 E

She stands

Blue

Slightly rusted

I sit and look at her

Smile a little

Though that’s a stretch

He asks for foil

Jumps

Begs

This is not Kansas

Not really

People smile

Junk nod

On the yellow road

I bang my head

On the bread

Shelf

But it does not take me home

Or away from home

I erase all messages

There is nothing anyone can say

Not really

I am the cause

The effect

And the lack of solution

Nobody else is implicated

In this demise

I clutch onto Alice

Scour around for a Toto

Listen to the foil rustle

Upstairs

My tin man

No flesh

All ribs and leg bones

Running

Running

We wear down our shoes

Running to nowhere

Smiling at posts

Easier than waking up

Though we are wide awake

Inside

Behind the eyes

Inside the heads

So full they’re empty

Lacking the courage to feel our hearts

Thump

Slump

To the ground

We stand like posts

Rusting

Decaying

Blue.

Mud

They cemented the hill

That’s what you do

When the road runs out

We walk to the top

We like it here

It is removed

Like mud in our ears

The tree stump was a tight circle

When we first came back

From that place

You know

Now it is splitting

Disconnecting

Like skin

Like us

We put mud in our ears

We do not like it here

The clock with no hands turns

We go to the red door

It has a black carving

A woman’s head

We want to touch her

But we keep walking

Such beautiful doors are not meant for us

We go to one building

Then another

We are not sure if it is the right place

The place we should be

It doesn't really matter any more

We take a seat

Our voice fills the room

Removed

Like mud

We wonder if it is really us

We wonder

And then we leave

We are running out of road I whisper

I won’t say her name

You know who it is

I have to keep her safe

That is why

That is why

We walk fast

The brown boots

Splitting

Like skin

Like us

I Repair the breaks

Like mud on our skin

We are cold and tired

But we must keep walking

Even when the road ends

We must.

Tricked

Charges apply to all users

I struggle to get the food through the door

I am stuck

To the trick

Dirty

Trick

One man holds the ladder

The other paints

They stitched the gun to our hand

Like a leaf

Curled up in the front door

It fits perfectly

Bang

No one spoke

No one looked up

We should have known

Tricky

Tricky

Tricky

Our words like concrete chipped

Compromised

The decision levelled off like dust

Which sticks and blows away

It will always be so

It will always be so

We search for powder

Any powder

As fast as we can run

Such shame

Snuff it out,

Snuff it out! Cries Alice

We can’t breathe

Stuck sticky tricked

No forward

No back

The red van follows

Crown

Record

Management

And we know

We know

The Red Queen

Played us

Dropped us like an egg from the broken window

The blanket sparks

Blue electricity

In the night

Like a pulse

Bzz

We are stuck

Ticker tape screaming

Tears making the scissors impossible to hold

We are stitched to the gun

To the Red Queen

Stuck sticky tricked

I see her.

Alice.

We are not real and too real

I don’t know what to say to her

I don’t know how to stop her crying

We hang our heads

Hang ourselves

It’s just us I say to Alice

Just us.

Concrete

Take a seat

Go on

My life is as comfortable as a concrete sofa

Outside the hospital

Old man’s navy blue pyjamas

That place

That we left

But still holds us

In a way we do not want to be held

We would like

A hand

Soft and kind

But measured

Yes, measured that’s the perfect word

To mix up the concrete

To bury the stones

To whisk the powder

Into rainbows not pepper

We smile

The blue seats are safe

The blue seats are safe

A different blue

Not navy old man

Young

Like Alice’s dress

We skip there

Like we skip to tea

It is where we collect the brew that feeds us

Keeps us alive

Keeps us alice

Keeps us under

Yes, if we came up we would remember

Plaster cast arm

Stairwell

Toilet

Bin

Jump

Jump

Jump

The plaster cast

Like concrete

Taking us

Down

Down

Down

The hole

We were dragged up

Pulleys and chains

Made to wait until the bones fixed

Then held

Held again in this bad way

We do not like

Take a seat

Go on

It is comfortable as concrete

I can share

Don’t pull drag hold

This is my life

Mine

Dusted in powder

Solid as stone.

Dose

There is pepper on the raspberries

Alice wrinkles her nose

To show she does not like

Fuck Alice

He says

Everything gets stuck with coffee

When Alice is gone I cannot speak

i…we…

Were not allowed to speak

That is why we write

Words

Like spiders everywhere

Letters on the ceiling

An illustration

To figure out

A problem

That has become a code

I have to make it words

Again

To make it me

Again

He licks his fingers and leaves

Inside we breathe

We hated his sallow nicotine mornings

I tap the boots three times

We are not home but the leather is wearing in

Softly

Falsely

Following advice in one sink

Chasing it down the other

Ah, I think

Tap my toes

The pepper

It is not on Alice’s tongue

It is on mine

Last night

At the sink

The broken powder

Bitter

spit rinse bleach

The taste becomes a memory

More of a memory than the time lost

Skin lost

Powder gone

That was it

Measuring up the dose along the constant edge of the scissors

It makes sense

A little

And we wipe our mouth

Ready for the next dose.

Whisper

You know that gun

I say

When it is quiet

The one you think is a risk

It is a calculation

I whisper

To myself

An adventure

Bird man smiles

As if he hears

At the top of the hill

He knows

His pink t shirt

Does not hold off the cold

His adventure

Burning like ice

Onto his tall lean chest

Orange

Magpie feather

The world has to turned to rust

Since I've been away

The same but changed

I whisper

To myself

We will sit on pins and powder

And wait

This is temporary

We must not settle in

We must not

I tell Alice

As she sleeps

So tired

Curled around the little gun

We will wait

Until the feathers fall

And the sky turns blue

We will wait

Until the calculation fades from the chalk board

And we can reclaim our adventure

Again

whisper

smile

hold hands

orange

magpie feather

we are scared

we are scared

we are scared.

Swing

I hide the tea cup

In the wardrobe

The only place safe

In these rooms

Between which

I dangle neatly

Not on a cord

A spring

A coil

A rope

That does not come to rest

I string my prayer to the tree

It is tied with lilac ribbon

Soft and settled

It is a different place

He is softened like carved wood

Smooth

We can breathe

Open the wardrobe door

Alice skips and sings

Plays with pens

Colours

In

The powder rests neatly on my tongue

I let it stay there

No need to labour

It will dissolve when it is ready

When the picture is full

When the words are sent

When we let go of the rope

And swing.

status update

myself and alice are unable to throw down our words

j is being held in the bad room

alice is in her pocket

hoping we both don't shrink

missing you all and the world of words

x

Starch

I like to feel the cold ridge

Sharp in my fingers

Where the skin is cracking

Bleeding quietly on boraxed sheets

In some ways it is softer

Than the words he speaks

Than the noise outside the door

People marching in circles

Nowhere to go

No way to unlock

The doors contained by electric

Not keys

We tingle with the electricity that holds us in

Drowns us out

You can see it in the eyes

Through the gaps of missing teeth

We are apart from the world

Walking in circles in a world

Confined by electricity

Not keys

Keys would be too easy to turn

They may have a brown label

Turn me

Alice may skip through

We could sit and savour a potion

Thick strawberry powder and apple sauce

Electricity

Burns the fingers

Fries the soul

Keeps us awake

But not alive

We taste nothing

Feel everything

To leave we must say nothing

Shh

Let the electricity become words

I like to feel the cold ridge

Sharp in my fingers

Where the skin is cracking

Bleeding quietly

It is my world apart.

Dream

Three hours

I must be brisk

I must detach my head and forget that I am home

I am home I am home

But I m not allowed to stay

To curl under the red blanket

To feel warm

To feel who I am

The shape of j

Where is j

She can’t even hide any more

Like when misery was a game

Chasing black flowers

Counting stones

Levelling off powder

being j being j

I keep the name label in the empty tub

I will fill the tub again some how

I will cut away the name

Like I cut away the tag

Just another date

Another time

Another dose of nothing

For one moment I was

Now I am nothing

Filthy

Itching

Losing

Always fucking losing

When there is nothing left but loss

I leave Alice sleeping in the soft red

Her little shoes beside her bed

Her little head full of my dreams

Keeping them safe

Keeping them safe for me

She knows me

She knows me

And so I love her tenderly

The only dream I keep

Is her

Where I tumble home 

And hold her tight.  

Jam

The coat is cut

The boots are home

Waiting to turn soft

I sit and wait my turn

Turn and turn

I pick the walls of myself

Dismantle the walls of myself

rubble ash dust

We all fall down

One glorious moment

With Alice in my hand

Now this waiting is not curious

It irks me

Holds me

When I do not want to be held

Too many hands

Holding back rubble ash dust

Using ticker tape not hazard wire

All so futile really

my home my home my home

there really is no place like it

I don’t think the boots will take me there

They are too heavy

And not red

I play with the line

Fine line

End line

Keep that line alive

Little silver cross of metal

Alice in a jacket

Too tight for her to run

We have to sit

Like good girls

Wait our turn and turn and turn

Drip a little red

I am glad we did not trip

Waking

I am glad we did not trip

In the new boots

I do not remember the name they called

But me and Alice came back and back

To play in rubble ash and dust

How delightful it will be

To eat jam and powder for tea.

 alice came to visit..it is sunday..we thought we would put our coats on and scribble as we always do..perhaps we will fit just right with the word to come..if not..well..it's still good to go to the tea party.. j x

state of affairs

Hello

Just to let you know that Jae is saway from her writing desk for a while..

She is thinking of you..

And missing her scribbles..

hope to be back on board as soon as possible..

thankyouthankyoukindly

x

Hammer

I hammer the boots

They were meant to keep my feet dry

But they just hurt

Everything just hurts

They have been fixing the wall for three weeks

It rests in pieces

Around their feet

They tap and hammer

Tap and hammer

The hammer

My hammer

Leaves splashes of hurt

On the boots

Like rain drops

A lot of grey clouds up there

Somebody says

I can’t see them

They are the words

I gather

Out of windows

Behind doors

Stolen by chance

Gathered like bruises

On brown leather

It is too much now

But not enough

The vanilla does not draw me in

Entice me

I settle under the arch with him

As much as either of us can settle

It’s ok ok ok

He has his bottle I have my bruises

This is how it will be always be

We know

That it will never end

Or begin

It is a bitter taste to savour

secondminutehourdaymonthyeardecadedecadedecade

I stuff the boots softly

With the paper

Stopped on the page

I stopped

Maybe they will become gentle

Maybe they will.

Bottle

It sounds like stars in the car park

Light over the ceiling

Look

Don’t catch

Not like back in the place

Where the damp ate your soul

Sniff the TV

good night good night

I wrap my hand

Lift the spider web over my head

The house does not look clean

Even though

I polish dust scrub

Two litres and one brown bottle

So many days

It is pointless to count

Something crawls over the ceiling

Baby bird bones

You’re a good kid

She said

never good never good

Power down

Progress is terribly slow

The yellow wire snakes

Long

Easily

Elements exposed

It points to path 27

Thank you for taking care

She holds her head in the car

I could walk forever

Flip the book

She is sick

She is sick

tuck turn run for cover

She was a good kid

She was a good kid

Now she is gone

She is gone.

Stare

I have been staring for two hours

Like I will fall

If I move

It is absolute

If I move

I will fall

If I move

Alright girl, he asks

He smells of alcohol

Not breath

Deep inside

Fermenting

I say yes

I smell inside too

All this waiting and staring turns me to rust

we are

sitting

staring

a bench apart

not so far apart

no noise

constant noise

no place

safe

except the blue chairs

in the powder place

but i can’t sit there

and stare

and stare

I do wish somebody would call says Alice

I laugh because I know

We are unreachable

Unobtainable

Curious I say

That the foam around his lips nestles in my neck

That the blood goes through two pillow cases

Quite beautifully

Like petals

Falling

We sit and stare.

Black

Black

Mass collection

I see you

I see you

But don’t look up

I find ways

Paths to get where

Without passing you

By

There are no hands

No warm cherry pie

This town is dying busy

I get high

To see without being seen

There is a new wall

Red brick

Black lines

There is no getting out

They send cars and wheels and bright yellow jackets

I hunker down watch on the bench with the chocolate spread

The thin side of j reaches for sugar

I wipe it off with the back of my hand

Black hand

Weeping hand

Salty and sweet

I pick the words out of the bag

One wakes up

One does not

One wakes up

In that place

That place where

I make a noise I don’t know

I do not like

The water on my feet

That is not the noise

The spiders are inside of us

You chased the moon

My lips are sticky with their thread

Thread running through me

In me

Don’t tug the ends

I might drop off

Drop off

Dust the boxes

Polish the frowns

She used a brillo pad

I poison the water

Don’t worry

I say to her

Black

Mass collection

I see you

I see you

It all brushes off.

Touched

She cups my hands as she gives back the coins

It is just what I need

Her hands

Sweet as apples

I am glad you are here

In the rain

There is no vanilla today

But all my powder is filled

I shake it like icing

Over a cake made of straw

Hard to swallow

I need something more viscous

To help it down

Make it stick

milk and sugar

hot cherry pie

they demolish and dismantle without permission of the white hand

the door hangs off its hinges

somebody had the energy to run

enough electricity to bolt

they add planks to the gate

gate wedge window door

stuck inside more stuck

I skip over puddles

Trip over stones

The phone is in the box

The phone is disconnected

The phone is not rung and does not ring

Radio silence

I am not five by five

The stain gets bigger

cemented stuck wedged

Lethal as raspberries and pears

It all means nothing really

Alice is dirty and lost in my pocket

I feel her there

When I put the coins back

When I remember her touch

When I remember everything I need.

Solution

I make stitches out of the dry grass

Neat

Tidy

The angel lifts up her arms

He paints over her name

To make it more

The shells rest on the shelf

He sits on the stone

Making black lines

The man who cuts the grass nods

Stops the mower for one moment

The cut grass smells nice

In the back of the truck

It looks like a bed

I am tired

It is hot on the bench

The stain on my trousers goes crisp

Unmovable

The man with the cigarette drives by

He scares me

I wrap my hand and make the bed

It is nice

Fresh

Like cut grass

I am drowning in black and gauze

The TV flicks in the toaster

Red and blue

Six hours a life time

Six letters posted

By the red letter man

I have been watching the same picture

Forever

A trail of powder dust and bones

I will buy apples

Red

Keep your words in my precious bag

Black

Forever

I make stitches out of the dry grass

Neat

Tidy

They will not hold

Turn me to gold

I lift up my arms

Lost in the solution.

Element

The butterfly wings move like lungs

Breathing

Tiny feet scare her away

She is halfway through her day

A hundred soldiers upset the bridge

They run

I run

But the soldiers move

It is their duty

I have none

Do you know where I am I ask

He says yes

I am not sure

I think the moon is in the curtains

But it’s just the light

Electric. Wire. Finger prints

All the right elements

The woman lies under the bridge

Coke. Pills. Police

All the right elements

They rest their arms on the car window

Like she is worth words

I sit in the chair

The garden is nice

Green. Thick. Moist

All the right elements

She asks me to talk

I find I no longer have words for the thing that has become my story

There is blood underneath the butterfly wing

I stroke her

She is almost at the end of her day

I cradle her. Talk. Soothe

Fill her little head with a cushion of words

Banter like wing beats

To stop her hurting

To help her rest

Do you know where you are I ask her

And she smiles

Her wings gently fold in my fingers

We are here

We are here

We are here.

Shell

They draw a line around my leg

It is not a line in the sand

The sand is where they think I go

To collect the shells

The shells which sit pretty underneath my skin

If they touched and licked they would not taste salt

Not salt from the beach

Salt from inside

Tears

Not vanilla

Bitter

Like plane fumes

It is a hyper real day

A day where the sky is blue

The line scrubbed off

Billy the liar waves hi over the top of the car

I wonder why he does

I said no

Once

Twice

But I still smile

Wave back

There are worse people than Billy the liar

The good people

The ones who cannot look you in the eye

They make you invisible

Put a thick black line around you

And rub out the middle

We are very different

We do not want to touch you

Or feel your touch

I laugh

I don’t want to touch me either

The hand

The sink

The water

It’s not really mine

Pull up a seat

Rest a hand

It won’t be real to you in a while either

The butterfly wings sing

Cabbage moths fluttering around

A crisply dropped pharmacy bag

Is that mine or yours

A little tonic

A little moment

When the wings fan our faces like a cool seaside breeze

Pull up a seat

Rest a hand

We can share

It won’t be real to you in a while either.

Try

I start at eight

Stop for coffee at ten

I collect a bag to fill me up

(i ask so sweetly who could say no)

I sit by the window

The stars shine in the glass

Yellow and blue

Buttercups and day time

Thank you for the paper

Come home and I will make you ham and potato for tea

She smiles

I smile back

Everything’s ok

(you know you know)

I am a little tired of this affair

It is hard to turn the pages

But the vanilla is nice

Warm and sweet

Trickling like tears down the back of my throat

trick trickling i tricked you

(i am sorry very sorry)

In the evening we will hold hands and pray

It will be warm

You will tell me to expect better

Enough now

Stop

This is no way to be

(i will say thank you)

I am a little tired of this affair

I touch the phone and brush my bare foot over the kitchen floor

I would like the ham and potato to taste better

But I really don’t feel you see

The words are not right and no one is there but I have to try

(nothing comes for free)

Tomorrow will be another prayer

Another pie

Another vanilla tear

I will sit by the window again

I am tired of this affair

But it does not tire of me.

Spindle

The smell of lavender seeps out in the rain

Delicate like sugar

Dusted on fairy cakes

I am hungry again

Like nothing will suffice

The old woman takes bags from the back of the car

Food for the children

Not mine

I am upstairs watching

Eliminating veins

Quietly

Studiously

As meaningful as love

I think of the word

Misadventure

Chew it over

With the lavender seeds

It implies adventure

The peak of a mountain

A smile

A photo

A pat on the back

A place very far from these cardboard walls

This half way home

Not quite here

Not quite settled

A place to sleep

Not dream

I look at the hole in the ceiling

Talk to it like a face

Look I’m dying

I know 

It might take a while though

Pack a bag

Settle in

Have a cup of tea

A broken biscuit

You might go before me

Waiting for the end of this adventure

My misadventure

I admire how you keep going on spindle legs

Nothing more than an ounce of seed and a smile

The little girl passes pennies over the counter

Her hair is wet

And greasy

Not loved like a little girl should be

Like anyone should be

It is hard to digest

The cloud is whipped like frosting

Spiders climb deep into the window frame

Hiding

I find it hard to walk now

Catching lavender in the rain.

Leaves

We search around for words

For being

As if we find a name

We will be

Time was when a new name brought excitement

We tried on letters for size

Dollies dressing up

Shoes of paper

Shawls of dirt

We stepped gingerly out there

Out there

Has rubbed away our shoes

Left us cold

Unamused

Any name seems tired

Rotting and sharp

Like sulphur

Itching up our nose

wake up wake up

Shake the leaves off your shoulder and choose

The radio scratches fifteen minutes

I can’t move to stop it

We pick leaves from the bin

Like pick and mix

Grind them up in our teeth

She is better at chewing

Sometimes she shares

A little glob of paste spat in my hands

I should be disgusted

But I am not

We share this

When there is nothing else left to find

No letters

No names

I look into her milky face and think I cannot lose you

But we know that this is fragile

Not quite sincere

That we will spit each other out

When the time comes

And the time always does come

My hand moves

Mutes the radio 

wake up wake up

Shake the leaves off your shoulder and choose.

  

Sugar

The streets are empty

Unsure unsteady

On my feet

Head clogged

After rains

Filthy water

Clotted and bubbling over drains

I eat the chocolate

In the corner of the dark room

The smell makes me dribble

The sugar makes me shake

The dark room is

The only place left for me

I am not sure it tastes good

But I need it

Everybody needs it

The rush

The hit

The immaculate fix

Nobody is fat these days

The chocolate gets old

As powder blushes finger skin

The man who fixes feet says it will be ok

For a second I believe

But a second does not fill one whole day

He cannot fill the holes

It scares me walking

In the wet

Dead birds

Half cut snake

The powder clots my breath

I labour to the top

As if from the top I will see

But the top won’t shake off the bodies

They slither and slide on every thought

One thought

Only ever one thought

I do not look up

I do not look into the eyes of that thought

That thought won’t stop

Without stopping me

Whatever that might be

Her little cotton dress

Gets soaked in the rain

It is white

Like a ghost

The rain sticks the cotton to her body

In fire

In fury

Her black underwear matches her black boots

Strong boots

Heavy boots

Boots that will last forever

She leaves her purple cursive script

Crumpled in the grass

Away from the birds and the snakes

I pick up her words

Her hand

It tastes nicer than sugar

Maybe we shall

Maybe we shall.

Choice

I am lost in the chemical aisle

I don’t know what to choose

Pick the cheapest the girl says

The one with no shoes

She picks a bottle

Puts it in her plastic bag

It rustles in her hands

I lock the door

At least when it is light outside I can see the locks

one two three four

Dead bolt

I will stay inside

Far away

Thinking of how we ate the milky way 

I wish I could love

I wish I was more

The glue on the paper lights up when you peel it in the dark

Like stars

Life peeled away and given all at once

The sadness is a stone in my throat

A constant pressure

I have exhausted every thing

She found it

The powder

In my pockets

The substance which throws my heartbeat

Keeps me in the house

Far from home

Far from her

I am lost in the chemical aisle

I don’t know what to choose

Pick the cheapest the girl says

I take my shoes off

I watch my hand move

Deep into the plastic bag

And I smile

An empty smile.

Rust

My shirt sleeve turns russet like apple

Apple

Green and red

Red

A world

To bite

Lick and chew

I am lost in the smoke

Drowned in the hours

Changed

But not

more stuck and sticky than what they say is stuck and sticky there is freedom in the mud like clots like paint on myself on my arm slipping off my face in the water on the bridge on the bench painted white cross red cross russet cross shirt sleeve hanging wet in the wind on a hanger by the window not seen so tired so empty but weighted down drowning stuck

Feet swollen

Head out of line

All out of line

The prayer written and left by her feet means nothing

Black lines in the dark

Water disappeared dry and dust

Rust in the stoup

I hold the glass in my hand like a talisman

All I have lost

All I wait to be again

I miss myself

I miss myself

All she has lost

All she waits to be again

I hold the glass like a talisman

I will be

I will be

But not.

Silver

We drink silver

And eat stones

I clean my fingers in the rain

Put the sadness in my shoes and jump

We move like spiders hiding from the storm

From bench to bench

Rust falls like pepper on our bread

Feast of feasts

Rust falls like petals on our feet

Dust to dust

Hair falls out in clumps

This is a new day

But not

We run and the bridge bows

Head dips

Wood bounces

Water comes close to our toes

Electricity gnaws through us

Eats inside

nibble crunch spit

I lick the dirt

The silver sticks inside and makes me choke

The stones mop up the blood

My fingers wrap around your hair

Another day is lost

The car is in the window

They think they can’t be seen

Like me

But things can always be seen

A little alchemy

A little loss

A little static stops the thoughts

We forget all we know

A glass of pink

A pinch of powder

When we drink the silver

We cannot be caught.

Splinter

The glass falls like petals in my hands

A trail of candy

To nowhere sweet

I have collection points

Different places

Each place has a meaning

Each piece of glass a different use

But the same use

You know

I touch the edges

Trap the dirt on the skin of my fingers

Wipe my fingers on my jacket

Lick my fingers clean

I do not falter in my collection

I falter looking up

I do not know what the postman wants

From me

Perhaps I should give him my name

It’s only letters after all

I fold the bag in the dark

Ready for tomorrow

My collection

I look at my bare feet

Hot and bulging under the blanket

A little brown

It would be easy now

To touch me

To find the trail of blood inside

Maybe that’s what the postman wants

To touch me

The bag rustles like splinters

Acorn blades passing by the window

Tears I would rather not own

chopping cutting choking

I swallow emotion

Like splinters

No sweet candy

In my hand

I will wait for next time.

Black Box

There is a black box

Screwed to the front wall

We cannot be trusted with locks and keys

No one dare see us

Touch us

Feel us

But they can get us

After

Never before

The black box is not a safe box

The safe box is under my pillow

Tucked away with dolly and bear

Casually

Carefully

It is mummy’s helper

Mummy’s box of safe

But I am not mummy

Mummy is there on the little seat watching

watching watching

powder dust ashes and apples

none of it makes her care

Every little detail of nothing

Sticks

The black box

Does not say how far I am gone

It is for grown ups not dolly and bear

But I am grown up

Grown down

Resting flat on filthy sheets

You really are doing so well

thank you thank you

wrap it up to take away

powder dust ashes and apples

all fall down

are you hungry she asks

no. I am empty

I say.

Donation

Donators save lives

That is the word

The line on my stomach itches

I gave everything

But it offered no redemption

Now it hurts to eat

I crouch over the bag

Holding my sides

Even the softest fruit

Doubles me over

Makes me clutch the skin and squeeze

I need to eat

To breathe

It is like betrayal

My body

My flesh

Fending off the hazards

Stitching me to this world

All my parts are pretty

She said

My face did not move

As she cut

I did not feel pretty

I did not feel anything

Except the yellow and red

Pouring to the floor

Joining the puddle of others

It leaves us stripped

Naked

Endangered to this world

Raw as dribbling flesh

We have to do it

We have no choice

We have to donate

To save lives

That is the word

And the word is all.