Image - by
Stepped on in the dark,
/ the cockroach was crushed
/ to pulp. All night,
/ an army of ants have
/ scoured its flesh,
/ leaving the carcass behind…
metaphor
Spinning plates - by
My mother was mad as mercury,
/ mad as a silken Disraeli stovepipe hat
/ hiding a gypsum-white rabbit.
/
/ She once told me – the…
The Peasant Declares His Love - by
High-yellow of my heart, with breasts like tangerines,
/ you taste better to me than eggplant stuffed with crab,
/ you are the tripe…
The Sunlit Surfaces - by
Ein Bild des Glaubens ist das schöne Weib:
/ Sie ist ein ja, und sie ist grenzenlos.
/ …
It’s a Mineral, the Mind - by
Velvet the Himalayan poinsettia in bloom,
/ silver the scabbard of thrusting power,
/ the mind is a clear scent,
/ the pen is a new…
Raindrum - by
The roofs sizzle at the waking touch,
/ talkative like kettledrums
/ tightened by the iron fingers of drought
/
/ Streets break into liquid dance
/ gathering legs…
The Heart of the House - by
Blackened
/ through lack of care
/ like an old grate
/ raked from the fire,
/ its two wings collar
/ the trapped air
/ and fuse at their lower tips
/ as…
An Sgrìobhaiche Gàidhlig - by
Mar chleasaiche-sorcais ann an cartùn-TV,
/ a’ dàibhigeadh le snasmhorachd ghlan
/ bho chòmhnard bheag 60 troigh a dh’ àirde
/ a-steach dha ghlainne làn bùirn.
/
/ Ri…