Call of May

My feet scuff
the uneven
I kick my limbs
To French music
That i don’t
The sickly smell
of pine greets
And the needles
poke at my bare
A distant
Of a honey bee,
I’d like to
Is all i need to stay

I sometimes wish it never happened, so I wouldn’t miss it as much as I do.

“I don’t know Jack shit about this.”
but we play anyway.
Bent cards flipping off the table,
focus in our gritted teeth
that is clear to all the passengers
on the train.
Our hands fly down, hard.
My thumb might break,
I think but just laugh,
our screams flutter down the aisles
and the Aces, to the floor,
next to our feet,
to our boots ,
tired of the Velcro of Yorkshire.

“Was it nice?”

Imagine that the sky was filled with fluff.

With fluff, Ma?

Yes, looking soft as can be. Even softer than your fuzzy jumper you wore last Tuesday. And softer than your father’s beard-

wow, that’s amazing

-except it was just light water! So not really fluffy at all.

Water like from the tap? Could I drink it, Ma, could I?

There would be far too much for you to drink, dear! But the water would fall sometimes, to us, and if the sky was bright and blue, our land would fill with colour.

And what was colour like, Ma?

Starch Awakening

Lift the earth
Pull out the shrunken heads
Watch as they grin
Finally released
From their suffocating tombs
The dull skin is peeled
And they return to the funeral pyre
Covered in vinegar
And oil.

Sunlight comes in shards

fragmented pearls
are presented
behind smudged windows
reflecting back my desire
to be in constant with you
Now and until

your nose wrinkles
with laughter
as we whisper swears
to the moss sleeping
in abandoned churches

I trace the dips
and valleys of your chin
that ducks with your smile

Your smile that rests in mine.

Our Justine

inspired by an extract from Frankenstein

I watched the sun
fall on her body
her cheeks still shiny
with the tears she had cried.
was the last life she showed.

The rope around her neck
was stopping her from leaving
in the slightest form of peace.

Instead she was chained,
swinging limply,
to Hell on Earth.

Peach coca cola

I want to go back to the tyre swing days
where the sun would go down when we said.
I want to go back to the plastic days
where happiness could be found in the adverts for shoes
with secrets in the sole
You handed me the can and
said ‘drink and remember

or thirst and ripen with me’

it goes round

Fuzzy teeth from sour sweets
and grass stains on our hearts

Tell the royal kings and queens
we wild kids run these parts.

Aurora and I

spinning wheels
cement roads
raised hands that planned our lives for us
Sleeping Beauty rode a bike once
before crashing
on the sofa
feigning slumber
for the sake of overdue Maths homework