Jackson

In Iceland a poet lies in a coma In Australia I light a candle The poets think it will help and who am I to say, and what else can I do? Bush gets in again— light a candle for democracy John Peel dies— light a candle for music If art is still possible light… Read more

Put my words on you You in the place of you You in the role of you Lay my eyes on you You and the grace of you Blind in the gale of you Lay my hands on you You and the real of you Feel for the whole of you. Spread your sauce on… Read more

Is that the ink of your mind or is that just so much artificially-coloured water? The ink of my mind is streaked with blood        house of anger        house of confusion looking here, looking there where new black flowers spread their maybe poison        bluer than death, this anger        an aurora, this anger… Read more

When I was 13 I wrote a fictional letter. I played that I was married to my crush (15, dark eyes, black wavy hair, face like Clark Gable, back like Brad Pitt, and gutless me with no idea what to say). I played at him away working, and me writing, telling him our baby’s latest… Read more

2 shadesail wings. 6 strut legs. 2 black-hemisphere-camera eyes. 2 horizontal antennae vibrating, transmitting, receiving. Airducts, wiring, processing equipment, waste outlet. Airlock, revolving door, escalator its mouthparts. Diluting, dissolving—sweet vomit its muzak. Read more

Tracks in a bubble chamber, particles whizzing and circling, we signal each other with a brush of the fingers We don’t see the fingers, only the words velvet-coated two-edged words all you had (more than you wanted) and it tasted like … tasted like … it tasted like rain in your mouth Like rain falling… Read more