Jackson

The Beatles lie shattered across the world One is dead and irreplaceable and the others busy themselves with lawsuits Michael Jackson owns their songs Can he understand the music? I myself only glimpse a glimmer I can imagine them together jamming in a room smiling at one another Can Michael Jackson? Song being used in… Read more

A made-up girl. I think she wasn’t born. I think she was made up from a media blueprint. I think she’s just a TV ad that came off the screen and onto the street. A fashion plate. I’m sure she’s synthetic. I’m sure they fabricated her to show the latest look. I’m sure they glued… Read more

The dawn seeps through fissures, Smiles into new blue air. The day gathers itself, Consumes itself, Slows. The evening whistles with glamour, Glistens with growing opulence. The night gleams blackly, Folds softly, Waits. Read more

I sit unlit in a corridor crammed with dark directions, in a building’s belly, in the womb of the night. I sit down on the floor, round a corner, out of the way, and let the quiet air wrap me, diffuse into my pores, hiding me: I am hid from the day’s dull demigods The… Read more

I’m the daughter, so I’ll get the mortgage, native shrubs, leather-look lounge. You’re the mother, so for you it’s a villa, rose garden, thorns and blooms. Double bed, Car CD, European holiday slides, Shiraz. Twin beds. Photographs, White bowls dress, white Hat on white hair. Baby. Baby talk, Money talk, Pep talk. Old friends, Faithful… Read more

The cafe poets, the pub poets, the kitchen table poets, the poets with pain and the poets without look at me and say Which are you? I say I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Read my poems and define me. I could tell them this: My mother is a seaside artist, a meadow… Read more