automatic
- like the hand
  reaching
in the dark
  for the glass
beside the bed

A rabbit eating strawberries from a yellow bowl.

Lola is dancing 
in her one-piece blue pyjamas.
The sun is swatting parts of the room -
the shade bites into the glare, leaving blades of light.

The song playing is her favourite. 

She stands legs astride 
& sings a good guess at the chorus,
mangling half the words,
but it does not matter.

She is the glory in this morning.

We have completed a jigsaw 
for the first ever time
& it now lies on the floor 
like a forgotten masterpiece.

It is of a rabbit eating strawberries from a yellow bowl.

She arches over until
her head touches the floor
spreading her arms outwards
she holds this pose - it is impressive.

I implore her to take a bow & she acquiesces.

I'm playing all her favourite songs.
It is an intentional manipulation
I am not ashamed to admit committing.
& anyway, it generates joy for us both.

& what could possible be wrong with that.

We have spread a snowdrift of paper across
the living room floor, practising writing letters
and primordial poetry. 

& what could possible be wrong with that.

"OCK ENT ATO" Poetry Reading Photographs

My first reading - when I could still read.

From the website: “We are working collectively to renovate and redevelop THE MINESWEEPER - LEDSHAM M.2706, DEPTFORD CREEK, LONDON into a space for artistic innovation. Floating laboratory of the MINESWEEPER COLLECTIVE.”

Joe Stohlman and I read three times and then some open mikes blew everyone away. My third reading was marred slightly by the amount of medicinal whiskey I had imbibed, but that was made redundant by the brilliance of the proceeding readings. Honest. Follow this link OCK ENT ATO to see the photos. The reading was at this venue. All photos by Valentina Gaddia.

(then up and into everything the squall and the rest of it)

there was a part

(fruit-sweet)

of me

uncovered by the suck

           of your filling lungs

(the sound / lifting / breaking

/././.::o_) ) )  )  )  ) _ver  

                     

the white-tiled, bloodied room

(then up & into everything & 

the squall & the rest of it)

a part I will never squander