cumulonimbus squall
of a headache
tore me out of delirium
to blister pack paracetamol
choked almost
that raw pharmaceutical taste
mug of tea
apple spiced
wishing the phone
would cease
exhausted now
as silence fell
I took to being asleep
with tainted tongue
and abstract thoughts
I look at my penis
skin collar
lychee tip
then piss
a long straw stream
you are not a memory
you are a gift
finger folds
and soften furze
we know we belong
but until when
the scythe decides
Chris Lawrence
when apes discover genocide
I wonder how long I will linger
on the verdant green and blue
insulated by my own sickness
that brackish bile
of human contempt
apes will sing not our mythology
but one of burnt forests
and dried out lakes
human carcasses so vile
carrion crows refuse
to dine without the thought
of consequence
and I will lie down
human leaf litter
becoming fertiliser of the new
season a generation
or era where the truth of nature
will win
Chris Lawrence
Concussed by mornings
sharpened light
grasping cotton silence
each breath was tentative
alone
without the other
that shadow fragment
of a once upon a night
recalling synaptic responses
she knew
he had departed
but to who
or where
tears where of no consequence
why shed them
fuck memories
and fuck those
who fucked them
paper cuts once
more painful
than the striating
marks on the heart
each ventricle incised
life a blood force
poured as if from
an unblessed chalice
closing eyes
cannot make you hide
slow each breath
coax intuition
to help
it is going
yield and go
fear of life
the greater threat
even with her
whisper kisses
oscillation of my heart
a thrum of false applause
nova wheel turns
in loose hands palms sweaty
streetlights searing flares
in greasy windshield stain
accelerating with measure
not panic
plastic neon afterglow
rearview shadows and transcience
nicotine once craved
alcohol once craved
cardboard cup balanced
lid slipped with brown liquid
it’s smell filling nostrils
along with dog
and after days perfume
arguments
those voices thrown and snatched
can be taken back
into a street
cop car drawled on by
tree lined urban paradise
front porch orange glow
parked
engine silently waiting
would she disturb the curtains to see
nothing
was he wrong
then he remembered
she was gone
they where gone
counselling for grief
counselling for depression
arguments outlive those who shout
that once beautiful house
invaded
shotgun splattered
with crimson design
rocking slowly to and fro
applause had silenced
into the false abyss
he would be in the shadows
a footnote on a headstone
living without a porch
accelerating
foot on gas
rubber black stained
breathing in circles
window open
a destination yet unwritten
cracked on cheap wine
liver brushed
tongue licked by camels
lying in semi stasis
not being illiterate
book slithered to floor
words melting into wood
she was by the full length mirror
naked with no breath left
she was my descent
her depths a surge of rapid currents
I could not read anýmore
tenderloin buttocks moved
her vagina a well visited republic
it’s musty sweetness
gave me a fugue of absurdity
return to me
return to me
her snowy gut roll belly
over my lips
kissing tongued glassy traces
jackrabbit twitching
lowered herself to me
I was forgiven
I had absolution
sweet poetry and flesh
shuddering silver dollars
into the meter
my time running out
would return to book
and motel walls
she a neon scrawl on my eyes
then there would be tomorrow
Coughing out the lightness in
smoke and spiral motes of dust
mutable bed and our body acquisitions
cuttlefish ass damp from before
if I was not so ignorant
i would feel again
the tapestry of tattoos on her flank
precise inks more trustworthy
than my cock of threat
in denial and veiled seduction
pressed against her
the hum of bee air conditioning
positioning for me with rump pressure
she felt I could make her sparkle and shine
instead that tremored gasp
returning to her back
looking with a certain knowing
that I was a flake
who would leave and betray
adding to that pile of detritus
and awful decay that was her life
they told me about the garden of love
which I knew never existed
just like the dew settles
a feeling came over me
reaching touching feathery leaves
someone lurked in the darkness
a glimpse a furtive shadow
i needed to draw out of the gloom
no fee to be paid
as wallet forgotten
my fingers picked a rose
holding it aloft to the sun
shadow emerged reaching also
for the rose
sunlit face exquisite beauty
naked radiance for me to see
entranced entwined enthralled
in a boiling swell of passion
i was consumed
infused with the flowers and trees
the garden in this garden
i would remain
many stories can be untold
but this one cannot
i belong to that once furtive figure
no more in the density of foliage
but with me
together as one
Together always
22 years of marriage to be celebrated
