Saturday, February 08, 2014

hurtface (after Ceravolo)

i come home late like a man
like a stranger // zebra-headed & foreign & sit 
down at the table to write poems cos i want to
put my key in the door & keen 
& cry for my flat old places
fall asleep on the keyboard 
& reblog the universe fuck 
with my long sad dick every last utensil 
  put on whiskey & strip
in the garden, have an irksome & scritchy
fight with next door’s pets // eat & vom the flowers
flowering on my face the face of 
        my stupidness today

i sing when i work & i work all the time
with lovely wifi & a sharp clean sharpie
& my big girl knickers all in a twist
around my throat.  i have drawn you
a face to wear & it is my face & it hurts
me.  but whatever comes you’ve come 
           thru the door & in your own 
face with your job & a bag of food –

o bum!  o joy!  o bloated world!
what dreams i am on the stairs of!

Thursday, February 06, 2014