People change, time moves them along,their loves change like trees, like fires, like buildings.Most keep the narratives in their heads or poets "tell it slant". From Sunfire and Turn Your Head:
Visit
When I am sleeping
you come
softly over these stones;
I turn deeper.
You slip words into my ears,
liquid syllables,
sickles sliding down.
Night-time turns drunk;
longing for more,
your tongue to enwrap me;
I turn deeper.
You trickle down dreams;
our limbs braided,
we slip into one.
When you pass
cups miss mouths,
ladders slip,
buckets crash down,
cars veer,
cyclists swerve,
drunkards sober up,
poles and policemen collide,
business men miss kerbs,
schoolboys drool.
Me? I’m just your wing mirror,
enjoying the devastation
behind you.
-----------------
It's a certifiable moment
a punch-drunk second
a pulse's high tide.
A dog eats grass
a water drop shivers
a barrel fills to its brim
an apple falls
a body drifts
a face buckles
a lover screams.
At the tip of an orgasm
passion powders;
the creek turns to dust.
Fifteen Irises from my Black Humour to You.
The mallards go off like a shot gun;
each a storm of wings
and black as a keyhole.
The pond, empty now,
is gripped in a glacial sulk.
Fifteen irises from my black humour to you,
their shadows only;
the pond will part with no more.
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