Arachnocampa Luminosa

Third skin shed,
hunger glows. I cast
my sticky thread

and wait. should no prey
mistake bait for star,
I blindly eye a juicy mate.

floorboard lesson

the old and the scarred
respond to kindness.

Glamočko

pebbles and crippled starfish hide
under seaweed and swept glass.
in a tinsel crown and tissue cape
I am dizzy with so much treasure:

curtains and netting,
twigs and stones

my hands, in those days,
were never idle. seamstress
and daughter

stitching shorelines
to ravelled landscapes.

you promised solemn, not once,
but always, the colours in nature
move the brushstrokes of God.

post office exchange

letter clutched, a last resort
fisted against unholy skies

the happiness of dreamy times
picnics before you had to die

dresses in tulle, silk lace
stitched with cunning detail
blossoms tucked inside pockets
as deep as wells.

who could predict; who would dare
to interrupt the sleeping fair?

appendage to mouth and ear

I wanted July
to be black hollyhock,
rosy dahlia and a host
of gunmetal dawns.

Instead
ear and lips embrace
assault on the streets
and sidewalks, uncountable
contrivances that glint
and call for absolute devotion.

When asked to choose
between cave or balcony,
I can only clutch my flapping heart,

relieved she's not a mouth.

chaos and inertia

Lost
inside a vortex
of cleaning products and chaos,
the foreign woman
raises the roof and then collapses

into hysteria  or historia;
we know, false friends,
nothing, not even matter,

matters.

June's Artichoke Heart

a delicacy a shade
rough of tender, June's final
curtain is so soon forgotten

I hide a tattoo of your seaweed tongue
inside my languid grotto.

I yearn to show the audience
a swoon-song that convinces
all the while you snip syllables
into dragon fans and stroke
your softened honour.