I. OVERTURE Black shirts, black trousers tune up in the dimming lights. Arms raise to begin – II. INTERVAL Dialogue means tea and emptied valves. Interval means spit avoidance. III. FINALE Applause: the vamp bar endlessly circulating. Pack up. Hit the pub.
She can recall the moment with Sickening clarity: each night, starting As she steps out into the halogen glare And stretching on, on until she forces Her arms up and her mouth open; Until the silence breaks, surges back Carrying her off, leaving nothing But an idea. No time for fear then, when She isn’t […]
Not far from my house there lies A strange, empty – perhaps – warehouse of sorts; Down the scuffed sidewalk, it shows Only a bland, unassuming white face, cracked in places – Four clouded windows, no wider than a curious face, pressed close But all the reserved facade will reveal Is a dusty rocking horse […]
unsweet, and coffee is as black as it. If he’s twisted at the neck or heavy at the eyes enough to take the wood for water fall through and hold him under for he cannot go home. But careful now – he plucked her on a filament exactly cherry-caught a cog upon a string and […]
Applause cascades down the corridors Crackling like electricity, flooding the ears Through dull walls: Nothing scalds like someone else’s praise. They’re running late tonight. Grinning with hubris, stumbling through the lines I’ve mouthed a thousand times Behind the curtain – off the stage. For every name in lights there’s a shape in the shadows Whose […]
On the wicker chair I steal a face and give it to you. I can feel your eyes coolly assess, watch my hands impregnate your cheeks with colour, cheeks that I know have been hollowed by the hands of a woman. If my fingers spoke a language it would be in great pigments of colour. […]
I scrape off the gum disfigured into curdled milk chunks. I empty bins of tissues marinating in tears. I hoover popcorn dropped into blood splatters. I pick up the tickets you moult at your seat. As the light dims and darkness pours itself like a drink, save a little awe for me.
“Here; behind the plywood boards, I can’t quite reach the lighting switch myself. Give us a hand, buddy; just hold this shelf.” You’re detached. From upon the second floor a skylight gazes on a flock of birds, oblivious to the actors’ distant words. I wear a night-gown. Disembodied sounds vats of electric noise are spilled […]