Treasure

We lie in the bed

The cans rattle and shake

The smell is sulphur

We dream of shoes and pavements

It is hard to swallow

Her hands are blistered 

Finger nails black

Teeth slimy

It is another day

Another treasure

We will hunt it out

All will be well.

Wolf

We fall in a closed heap
Sugar flare flowers
We read a frailty in the cave that bonds us
A small wolf dances in the twilight
We watch its burning teeth
It appears hopeful
A kindly means to cajole and practice
We are called to wine
A blight upon the earth
Cringe and wild
Burning dreams
We fall in a closed heap
Sugar flare flowers
All stretched and pulsing
Hair a tangle
Stomach in knots
We pat the wolf and say goodbye.

Scream

We scream the body electric
The wind blows the curtains
We drink sweet tea
All about us is lost at sea
We drown the powder with flapjacks and honey
Ice cream powder and glue
We scream the body electric.

Wait

We wait for the powder to come
Always waiting
Looking at our shoes
They are scuffed and tired
We hide under the covers but sleep doesn't come
We drink coffee and crunch bread
As if it will make time a little easier to swallow
Iron the clothes
Dust down the sheets
Morning will greet us with its usual grin
We made it through another night
We have another day to get through
Such is the way
We take small steps into the sacred building
Daren't lay a prayer upon the board
Just look at the candle burning bright
The rich purples and silver blooms
We come home again
Sink into a half sleep
Always waiting
Always waiting
For the powder to come.

Murk

We write poems on balsa wood
Pencil glides like waves
Sleek and stormy
Our head hits the bottom of the wire
Cuts into our thoughts
Breaks the silence
Like a draft
We feel guilty
Lack manners
All is murky
Like birds with clipped wings
Charging into stars
We sink in the sand
Marred by gifts
Syllables and lines
Things made to cut the frayed and fried time.

Curtain

Her hair falls like curtains
Covers her eyes to dampen the light
We are waiting on the night
There is comfort in the black sky
There is comfort in unveiling the morning
Each day a fresh start
Each day a grinding halt
We wish for petticoats and pennies
A true passage
A clear view
The silver chimney pot smiles at us
Summons up a rainbow in the winter skies
I brush her hair away from her eyes
Hold her tight
Right until the morning comes.

Pennies

We swallow silver pennies on a sunny afternoon
They light us up from inside
We paid the ferryman in gold
What was left we hid in the seams of our pockets
It is a constant wait
A constant nagging
No powder will help
No can will stop the thoughts from racing
Quite how we reached the side of the river we do not know
There is a bridge
It travels over the churned up water
We look over its railings
There was a time when we would sit on top and swing our legs
Those were the richest days
Now there is an emptiness which cannot be filled
When we reach the other side we scoop up the pennies into our hand
Count them out one by one
There is just enough to survive
Too few to live
We swallow silver pennies on a sunny afternoon.

Buttons

Our arms fall apart at the church of blue buttons
Father comes to tea
We haul his body from the closet
Dust off the shirt and tie
Our mind is sharp
A tangle of scars
Small bars and snarling hearths
We choose our years carefully
We have to be sure
Measure the cloth and come to a conclusion
We saw the end in the dusty trunk
But now we rise
Slowly
Carefully
Our arms fall apart at the church of blue buttons.