wednesday with modern art

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Francis Bacon’s life mask
one half-eye and a nose

Tips for kids in summer
and winter and half-spring in their step,

Green-eyed
Green shoes

Blue eyes filling with Rothko red

Blue-nailed blue eyes filling up books
anxiety, ekphrasis and pictures

Bacon’s silky oils – curtains dissolving
in front of her face

disappearing into the thick world
outside of the quiet white

Flies – Pt II

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This day, like others in the house

away from the wind

is filled with small plotlines

 

Squashed by a clap of the hands in an hour

as the pen scribbles out the point

 

Plotline, space, plotline, space

one fly killed, space, ten flies killed

 

A walk around the block

(a purpose slotted into a space)

 

The flies appear aimless, but they’re not

 I appear full of purpose, but

 

 I find

the day whittled away

with only squashed flies to show for it.

Continue reading

Flies – pt I

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All day long, away from the cloudy wind

grabbing flies from the air

Absurd irritation in their dizzying dance
and so rude,
the small and silent attack
on personal space

Poetry works when small and large things
are put in dialogue

Like my hand on this page, or me in this house
and the flies around my face

Is that rain?

Sand Down the Western Highway

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The words I’ve been reading
Sand I’ve been treading
Pasted on my ankles and hands

And what I talk about
When I talk about now

Your long hair
Tied back in the days I’m gone

I hope the same song
the same lilting chords
Are stuck in your head too

As you watch trams, rain, money
I’m seeing you
and the wide open sea

My favourite backdrop

Again, Milk and Light

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Circular stains from the milk that

dribbled down the side of

the all-day drinking cup;

 

A near-perfect venn-diagram

only visible when the 4pm light

peers into my aquarium home

 

It’s like your concerned brow and

my bullet-beating heart on Skype

yesterday with the drinking cup and yours

seventeen hours behind

 

We battle to find

that rounded diamond of understanding

as hours tick by

 

In between the months and the all-day screen

always the same screen, the same concerns

and the same bullets

 

Dribble down the side

as light pours in: 4pm, 6pm, 10am & again

 

A frustrated dance around the diamond

On either sides of the all-day screen

with cups and confusion and love

 

An unanswered question

ticking beneath the desk for both of us