After the Argument
You did this once, I remember - So don’t try to tell me. Okay, Perhaps not exactly what I did Just now (it looked really good. I saw it in slow motion. Her big fat mouth turning up, sneering.) But I definitely remember you Throwing some cold, wet thing At me. Don’t try to tell me I lost control, (my wrist flicked forward and everything just flew out of the glass in one go, so fast) Because I went out, picked up That glass with intention Full blown in me. It was pre-meditated. (as if there was a hot tunnel of furnace air, blowing it all at her; angry. Hate) It was one of those things: You...
Read MoreShedding
I am gliding. I am sleek and thin. I eat nothing. I do not speak. People watch me. I see their eyes like stones. Such dull mica like pavements ripped up, moulded into balls, popped into a bony socket where they roll and crack at me. It’s a long time since I was last looked at. It takes courage, this. I knew when I began that they would say this can’t last, laughing. Their skinny smirks drove me to my inner bullring where red gauze veiled my new body. I struggled, struggle still, weak in the face of my casual fellows. Poor things. My weapons are teeth; I rip my enemies to shreds, spit them...
Read MoreVillanelle: Smallness
I am very small now, like a babe. I walk among the particles of dust - I sparkled once, but now I start to fade. Here in all the tall grass I was made. I can see every fleck of rust: I am very small now, like a babe. I wander through the sun and through the shade; I do not want to, but it seems I must. I sparkled once, but now I start to fade. Grass is like a jungle, tiny arcade - The lions roar, the tigers too – blood lust. I am very small now, like a babe. In the green my growth is here delayed. The wind starts; first a breath and then a gust. I sparkled once, but now I start to...
Read MoreDream of a Slaughterhouse
My mother (forty-one) Greeted me, distressed, one morning. Told me, her vegetarian offspring: “Oh, a nightmare – awful it was; I shudder now. Dreamt I took you To an abattoir To show you how humane It really is. Men lined up sheep In guillotines. A sliver blade Rotating, looking weirdly Like the moon, descended, But cut only a certain way Through each one’s neck. Screaming and bellowing - Those under the blade And those watching. Something’s wrong, said the men. It’s not normally like this. There was blood all over the floor. I was standing in it,” She...
Read MoreDaughter
“Daughter of my flesh, don’t blame me for this. This is not my fault. It is the will of God. It may seem that this is cruel, but We must bear up. And of course, You exaggerate the situation. People don’t really Follow you around, shouting things, And you’re not really friendless; you Don’t sit on your own all day.” And even if these things were true I would deny them. It couldn’t happen here, Nor to such a one as this. (1988)
Read MoreParalytic
Wood leapt up and hit me Between the eyes. I am the only one Who sees. There is this feeling of Dispossession, extenuation. Things are shifting. A table, Just now standing stiffly on my left, Ran, when I turned my head, To the other side. I know How they trick me. The ceiling lights Illuminate the whole unwelcome room. The yellowy rays are making me fall. I am cut into slices. Paper. (1988)
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