Could It Just Be - by
Dense sensations inside a farm animal
Announce themselves
At mutant scrapyards
Surrealism
The Bridge Over The Atlantic - by
They took our birlinn, stem and stern-postsHigh as a Venetian gondola’s, and up-turned it.Every tide in the bladder-wracked sea-tongue its keel Bridged, swam the eel-currentRaces that tracked South and NorthInto and out of the Atlantic. And theyDocked our tongues, every man’s that daredGive out a taste of his father’s banter,Effortless sound-shapes an islander’s born to. […]
The Porcelain Cliff - by
Dust is curious. / Dust is thirsty.
I Lost my Shoes on Rachel Street - by
I lost my shoes on Rachel St.
/ Head lolled back to rest
/ against a pillow of the Mont
/ kiss the foot of the…
The Conversion of Sheep - by
When St Fillian first came upon the sheep
/ they stood with their Sumerian heads
/ and stared him out…
Here it is the boundary with its unfindable sadnesses - by
Here it is the boundary with its unfindable /sadnesses…
Portrait of Ana Dali - by
Ana Dali, Salvador’s sister,
/ shown here in an ominous frock,
/ eloped with an amorous easel
/ to the melting apartment block.
/ She waves through a…
grave dust - by
The night I got grave dust on my hands after dusting off my mother’s grave / I was lent a…
Magritte Macphail - by
It is a union that suggests the essential mystery of the world.
/ Art for me is not an end in…
Demotic Nocturne (Nocturne vulgaire) - by
A breath cleaves operatic breaches in the walls
/ of shimmery, dilapidated marble halls,
/
/ disperses all the boundaries of hearth and home,
/ and blurs…
The Homecoming - by
For Lois Pereiro
/
/ In Ithaca everyone was dead.
/ They say it was me, Argos the dog, who woke first:
/ — Dead, dead, dead!
/ A smell…
‘In a dream’ - by
In a dream / I saw a ticket booth / at a bus stop where / birds’ feathers were sold…