In a Waxed Jacket
Man tones with landscape. Near us, the scraped place where paragliders run and launch; over there, no signage, no amenities, none recently in air that cannot freshen precipices glib to their own granite. Stones slowfight landscape. I have never worn boots like these before. Must everything be broken in? I didn’t – Closequarter blisters execute designs. Find a talent for scrambling, poet. Your loss to follow one who won’t look back. Spoil the ending. Keep walking after. Keep walking away.
Casting Off
The dancing master, his red-ribboned shoes! I tell lies to him.
The dancing-master, seven feet high, six inches wide!
Fierce and concerned, deerlike he steps, and I tell him lies, the dancing-master!
O it is fine, everything is fine, red-ribboned dancing-master!
You saw me stop, not the man lay hands on me, dancing-master.
He wanted to lead. The whole set stopped. There is heat on my back, dancing-master!
Dirty Glass: A Coastal Score
agility washing machine tram clang
capped stone established ivy salt
fisherman musical instruments child bride
mouse terrace house
dog dog hair storm cloud
brewed coffee instant coffee bloodstain
frenchman trapdoor port of grace
As You Fly Over
You will drop their names into the water As you fly over the Irish sea l over There is flowing water and a kettle No longer a man with broken glass in his shoes over You will forget them in the water I am praying for you to forget their names o h Watch for them to come back as if nothing happened Be no wraparound of sheep no compound noun l over s As you fly over the Irish sea Let your ears be attentive I’ll drown you if you mention them again
Competing Interests
The author has no competing interests to declare.