Monday, 10 January 2022

Summer for the New Year

I wrote a little thing on New Year’s Eve.

And 10 days in, it doesn’t seem massively off. So, thought I’d share it.

- - -


The Bloodline of Wolves

.

loss begets calm begets


inadvertent scream down the phone


sweet


sour as the mirage honey of the promised land


begets hope


begets two sons


stagnancy, the complacent


his brother [ cw: ]


begets pinprick bruises on my


pin.prick


they didn’t have a word for it in the line-up


in the language


in the alphabets


even the dust mites on the windowsills of the town-church-fire-school-rehearsal halls


scattered away to make their own babies


elsewhere 


in the furious excitation of the uncategorised


begets unsanctioned


begets unlawful


begets unrestrained


I watch them dance around for ages


in patterns, passing titles back and forth


darting like fireflies like


so beautiful and the myth


the legend the Book of What Children Imagine


says that if you puncture one, its luminous poison will kill you


So, I sit on the porch


in the warm summer air, crickets (or was it locusts or frogs or just voices in stones)


singing beautiful songs  of heat lighting




I sip the tonic water left over from you


Boxes in the hall


Your bottle of grenadine gathering holy dust


on the shelf


land of promises


for no one to find


Let the house crumble, I’ve decided


People like me,


we beget enough of our own ghosts


but they have teeth,


far too unruly to ever join the parade


-


G.xx