becopoetry

Poetry Music Thoughts and Reflections

Yesterday’s Bleach — September 12, 2016

Yesterday’s Bleach

After ‘A Beautiful Young Nymph Going to Bed’ by Jonothon Swift

 

 

Sugar granules sink in foam

on a table where Sappho is

 

stuck between pages

preening Ovid’s Amores.

 

A fall happens,

coffee spills on swift shoes,

 

a copy of ‘Men’s Health’

splays on concrete.

 

Behind him, a little black dress

in a window with accessories,

 

gifts, and a stack of books

titled ‘Freedom’.

 

With translation on his lips,

he mouths something

 

about Gulliver, wiping

liquid from the city street.

 

Saying nothing in return,

Corinna picks up her empty cup,

 

cures her hair with a pin

and eyes the messy magazine.

 

Apostrophe driven on bittersweet,

she turns to the sky,

 

O cloudy context fold in,

this battlefield is yesterday’s bleach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Plastic Bottles — March 15, 2016
Black — August 28, 2015

Black

the space behind the chalk
above her number plates

circular on the road
transparent on the window

the bottom of the trolley
on the buddha’s back

over the whole truck
behind an open sign

before the milk’s poured in
inside the lining of her boots

underneath the ‘specials’
the cover for an ashtray

a jacket sitting on the seat
between lips on a straw

the letter Z on a box
the lid of a bottle of booze

a tray glued to the wall
a pale plate stacked on blue

 

 

 

 

 

ConStruck tt — July 23, 2015
upon a time — July 20, 2015

upon a time

what a time we’ve had
the piano playing
as the bass strummed
the yelling neighbours
Louder Later Longer
the red wine sipping
pink teeth
stained lips
the fish that caught you
baking the oven

what a time we’ll have
when finally
the kiss allows to lips
and my bed
sweats into your pores
the fish eating us alive
writhing in its skin as
blue eyes are thrown back in

what a time I’m having
in a pond drenched
with music and rose
my body filling my head
with hands
senses torturing
a repetitive song
longing grasping itself
while trying to shake
salt into the flesh of dinner

what a time I’ve had
the wine pouring itself
from one cup
into one mouth
the bed warming itself
on one side

 

 

 

 

Bedroom — July 2, 2015
A Concise History of Love — May 4, 2015