Jul/Aug 2007 Poetry Special Feature |
Flight
left over thoughts of repression
follow me into a recurrent dreamI drink from the setting sun
fingers tingle/ hands become enormous spades
shoveling ether in a cyberspace squallthere is a feeling of presage infused with smell
sweet/ exotic/ sour-sharpphysical restraints hiss like helium from a balloon
body expands into a gigantic soufflé
buoyant fractures levitate weightless above rooftopsin a skull session behind closed lids
steller blizzards batter meaning
scorching flashes shoot colour into gloomfearless yet afraid I explode into atoms
sliding screens pass between reality and unwritten flowsthere is confusion mixed with panic
hands clamp under armpits/ toes scrunch
the moon trundles too swiftlythen it is gone
breath passing through maidenhair
a geranium kiss against my cheekfingers flutter in semi-sleep—
clipped wings
trying to fly
Inheritance
the coarse ground smell of nutmeg
white bowls filled with junket
left on a window sill to set
in slow movement around my kitchen
things I have inheriteda dab of geranium oil carries her with me
she taps against my skull
with the insistence of a woodpecker
pecks my mind with things I acquaint to hersponge cakes that never levitate
flatness camouflaged with cream in Kosciusko piles
I imitate my mother’s skill
add strawberries to the heightI collect chunks of her migraines
rampage the bathroom in a talcum powder squall
sprinkle rosewater over bed linen
smear prayers with glycerinebut it’s the smell of geraniums
that shape her
along with nutmeg
and junkets on a window sill