Jackson

When it’s over I will be silent. You will try to celebrate, to go out with a bang, but I will be silent. There is no joy in death. I will cry my tears silently. There will be no-one to hold me— no-one that matters, when you are gone. There will be arms around me,… Read more

In the melting mess of your face see paintings. In the stiff wick of your hair see tellings. In your filigreed neck see tree-rings recording the layered war of your fortress. Blow on your thin blue eyelids, lash your mighty breath to your brow. Study your frownsmile muzzle, sew your noisome strings in your circle.… Read more

We are pinned like prayer flags, fluttering in all the winds, fixed by our hands nailed to the wooden walls, fences, windows. We send our prayer emails, tunnelling to all the temples, channelled by tonight’s whims nailed to the pulsing bitstreams, servers, windows. We are bonded, prayer wheels spinning with all the neighbours, trapped by… Read more

just want to touch you! reach out and touch you! don’t give me anything. just want to love you! don’t give me paper don’t give me gold don’t give me paintings i’m much too old bring me some skin and hear what i tell you. got it real bad. just want to touch you! he… Read more

Would you like some soup? It’s pumpkin. I grew the pumpkins myself, in my own garden. I watered them with my own hands, fed them with manure and straw. I trained the trailing vines to safety as the pumpkins budded, burgeoned, ripened; and then the vines withered. I broke off the heavy pumpkins one by… Read more

See the wind in your sexy hair. Imagine the feel of your sexy hair. 25 is the sexiest age. You write about politics. I write about you and your beautiful face and your sexy hair. You write about love. I write about you and your beautiful wife with her sexy hair. Read more