Monday, 17 July 2017

Selfie in Context


I didn’t just want you to see me
near-naked but see me in context:
high above burnt-out docks,
amidst the sort of
uncomfortable furniture you used to
bruise my body on,
taking me as I take this,
each act lost in the
burnt-out sky
without context.


(For LHSC)

Sunday, 11 June 2017

Hotel Sheets


Even within the
crisp, clean
hotel sheets I
couldn’t rest, my
insistent erection
unconsoled by my hand, my
mind full of images of
unconsoled women.

The alarm startled me,
twisted in sodden sheets,
still erect, thinking of
when you used to know
what to do with that.

Saturday, 27 May 2017

Elusive Skirt


She hardly needed to be quiet as he
slept like someone satisfied,
as so he should be but
nevertheless she tiptoed
searching for her scattered clothes,
closed the bathroom door with a
delicate click, studied herself under the
harsh light: the marks he’d made
were raw but would fade.

She stole a fingerful of his
toothpaste to abate his taste,
dressed in haste, needing the
coffee her husband would have brewed,
careful her dangling shoes didn’t
bang the doorframe whilst she
scanned once more that
scuzzy floor for her
elusive skirt.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com  and Holden-and Camille.Tumblr.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Monday, 22 May 2017

Showers



Whilst she showered off their
commingled effusions, he preferred the
short, sharp shock of cold rain, but
something in the woodland tang of
pine, wild honeysuckle, the
unkempt rosemary, thyme,
love-in-idleness, roses
dripping attar, the distant
smoke of burning applewood and
something distinctly feral, in
heat somewhere, reminded him that
he had a woman within who could
never be satisfied but it was his
sworn duty to try.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com  and Holden-and Camille.tumblr.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Dating Sights


“Send me a picture of your pussy”,
he messaged, so she
made him a movie of her
rouged CSL’s saying “Sadly, my
cat won’t cooperate and so
from now on these lips are
sealed”.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com, and also Holden-and Camille.Tumblr.com, to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Monday, 10 April 2017

Grip







His too-long absence made his
grip too tight—
tears of fabric,
tears in eyes, her
pulse a tattoo of
desire, choked,
condensed.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Saturday, 25 March 2017

Stripes








She knew she was often bad,
knew too that he would
never harm her, so sometimes
she would kneel in the sun and
imagine what his
stripes would feel like across
her bare back.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)