Monthly Archives: February 2012

Lindsay Kemp 1973 White face, baggy white clothes, white gloves, a ruff. We’re not his audience. Some sort of fop. Some lordling, yells for every single drop of blood and talent. Never quite enough For his harsh masters. To a … Continue reading

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History My memory is made of stills and clips torn out of context. Who’s that boy, my date? When did I have that grey silk dress? I hate to think how thin I was then. And my hips, so skinny … Continue reading

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In trouble again

The Last Temptation ‘You die upon the cross, and then you rise. That’s when they all fall out. The Magdalen is first to see you, and John starts again moaning you loved her more. So Simon lies brings up your … Continue reading

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The Poet on her young comrades You will not all live through this. Death will take you unexpectedly. Shot in a crowd rushing police lines. And if I am allowed by circumstance and age – my heart will break – … Continue reading

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On her art I need a lullaby. Night turns past one Drowsiness burns to wakeful. And I write with eyes that tingle, wrists that ache. The night silent outside. Another poem’s done and my brain teems. So many years asleep … Continue reading

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Nightmare I wake and there’s no pain. The surgeon’s smile actinic bright. He says I’m young again a side effect. There’s something in my brain that kick-starts cells. Or maybe it’s my bile washes them clean. I’m thin and twenty-five … Continue reading

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For a friend in pain There is a woman in Turkmenistan who’s learning English. Her lush eyes are dark her skin is brown and soft. There is a mark on one cheek from hot oil. She has a plan to … Continue reading

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