there are the old tales
of the man who went for smokes
and never returned
as if it was that easy
afraid of laughter
in case it turned showery
caressing with smoke
lungs that gave up long ago
filled with that small joy
and he said, 'fuck it', and went
elsewhere, far beyond
the reach of life's pain and hope
as if his long trail
of lived days led to one choice
as if it wasn't
the weight of so much choosing
that crushed him to a fine dust
like the bunched duvet
you left behind to haunt me
memory of wood
sucked dry by the thirsty flames
left ghost, a haunting
shaped from the fire's soft grey tears
collapses empty
beneath the settling structure
we carefully built
later i'll make the spare bed
leave ours your lost body's cave
shake your made money
jingle pockets full of change
but for all your wealth
and haunted machinery
there will always be
a kid with dried gourds on sticks
filled with sun-dried seeds
dancing the rain of pummelled
skins stretched on wood frames
weaving patterns of counter
and pulse, free, beyond your claws
such ordinary
ambitions - for cold gold's gleam
and fire rolling free
embellishing night's edges -
tattered scales glinting
beneath moss centuries deep
as if your slow dreams
seeped through lazy armour
to cosset you deep,
deeper into forgetting
absent, avoiding
the way the world failed to match
your terrible majesty
you multiply me
from almost gone to human
some softer magic
hidden in the words you shape
or the fact of you
crouched between light and darkness
afraid of nothing
save anything for yourself
sunlight edges you
begging your elements home
do we smile, perhaps
touch, unsure whether to fear
we're unreal or real
silent, we become, an end
a beginning, more than us
face my enemy
fingers stained with metal stink
and quick transferred muck
from pockets hands and purses
through each of thousands
of transactions difficult
as the month's last spend -
choose food or heat - or light as
whim-bought shop coffee
to use up jingling shrapnel
rather than carry
it home - no wonder monarchs
(engraved foe faces)
don't carry the stuff - the weight
of memories would end them
prowl like you own me
circle slow as if unsure
i'm prey, threat, or mate
move liquid, stalking, through light
and shadow across
the spilt-drink-sticky scrublands
you marked your hunting
grounds a night long in your past
sleek with raw muscle
you want, which may be hunger
or, if i am lucky, thirst
some things sleep can't reach
to heal, some broken things high-
shelved and time dusted
and even if you could heal
could you heal, really,
and be the person you are
now in the wild world
weather worn and wiser, ha!
wise through surviving,
enduring, isn't wiser -
just quitting refused
or not pretty enough yet
to get married to
so i lay my weary head
and still hope for miracles
i turned none to rock
they wanted what i didn't
how quickly they cut
from soft pleas to violence
of course i'm angry
that i fought but couldn't stop
them ripping apart
all i tried to hold my own
my hands in their blood
their stopped stone hearts a demand
love, or learn terror
i can feel the world fading
taste what they'll make me
when they come to take my head
i'll be drawn monstrous
a weapon to make men rage
and maids remember their place
a wound up springing
thing made of sun and dancing
and raw speed waiting
unleashed when the chase begins
dust kicked up by hooves,
clawed paws, all speed and angles
across the dirt plain
realtime physics of capture
collide, evasion
a battle for life fighting
the straining for sustenance
day's a haze - grey teeth
and metallic clanging claws
winged things in the sky
calling doom to each other
back at the cold house
landlord's raised the rent again
walls crawl with black mould
eerie beasts in damp spotting
haunt the thin grey dawn
when coughing rips sleep away
no meter tokens
no heating or hot water
shiver, cold sink wash
hunt change for the bus - it's your
duty to work, remember
drowned - sunken - i dream
tentacles - yes - so subtle -
looking for ingress
or a tug of war playmate
to tear and empty -
i never loved deep water
nor did i hate it -
it just hurts to be above
that world long left behind -
as a child i tried to walk
into the north sea -
determined to see places
memento'd in code
inscribed in the redundant
parts of cells beyond recall
with crystals, gems, rocks
there are known planes of weakness
(serious people
have studied this in some depth)
not so human minds
which, lacking standard structures
react uniquely
when force is applied to them
(serious people
have studied this in some depth)
learn kindness, concern
how to break a fall gently
learn to listen hard
learn to speak less, and softly
unless you're a dick
if so, i suggest learning
to take a punch in the throat