Marks

Two little bruises

give you away

one on my right wrist

one on my left.

Imprints of your thumbs

as you held me

like I was the only thing

keeping you afloat.

Now just smudges,

like newspaper print

but the stain of you

lingers.

I touch them

to remind myself

for one moment

I was needed.

Now I watch them

yellow

into the pink of my skin

like leaves

rotten.

Death wish

Sometimes

I wish

I was terminally ill

so I could quit work

forever,

guilt-free.

We could sit

on the bed and

play board games

and you’d make my dinner

for me.

And when you weren’t here

I could read magazines,

write a diary

and watch trash TV.

And you’d have to be nice,

if you liked it or not

Whatever I said,

You’d agree.

____________________

It is what it is

Everything happens for a reason

Except rape and earthquakes.

What goes around comes around

Unless you get away with it.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

Unless it’s a stroke.

Tomorrow’s another day

But not if you die in your sleep.

Karma’s a bitch

No, karma’s a fairy story

Rich boys get off murder raps

Babies die the day they’re born

Or before.

Oh well.

Time heals all wounds.

It’s just sometimes

you have to 

wait

forever.

__________________

James

You are my ton of bricks, I can’t see anything but you.

I want to fold up inside you, safe beneath your skin.

Alone I’m on stand-by

Only you can resurrect me.

________________________

Untitled

This scrunched up

piece

of toilet paper

that I held in my

hand

so hard

as your eyes raged

black

Is all that is

left of me

It is the only

thing

of mine

still standing.

_______________________

Observatory

Ian showed me

a ticket

ripped, with a phone number

on the back.

Might have been

thrown out weeks ago

But now eerily kept,

Preserved.

He showed it to

me like a prize:

World Trade Center

Observatory

September, 2000

‘How big was it?’

I asked, with the

naivety of one

who has never seen

the like

of a skyscraper.

‘Bigger than you could ever imagine,’

he replied.






_____________

Battery heart

I’m starting

to think

love songs are lies

love songs are

just

flush of lust songs.

No love song has

ever been written

ten years down the track.

Like a chicken

whose body grows

to becomes its own worst enemy:

the more you know of me

the more there is to

pull apart.

__________

Ill

I’ll never forget

that neon night we met

You were too good for me

at first

But not later.

We could have done anything

If only we’d co-operated.

Time passed

Love rotted

You threatened I’d be 40 and alone

Instead you’re 30, in a mental home

What were you thinking

When you took - a knife…?

or scissors

to your dick?

I’m sorry you’re so sick

I’m sorry

for a lot.

But not for everything.

____________

Blossom

Today

I watched

the cars bleed

on

the pavement

And

the trees

were weeping

softly on

the cars

Red and

pink drops

filled

the gutter

Bright

and deep

as

recent scars.



__________

Father's Day

The posters in shop windows

order me to buy a card.

They tell me how to feel.              

They describe you like this:

You’re special

Number one dad

The best dad in the world.

They remark;

Thanks for being there.

There are cards for dads who like

Golf, gardening, DIY

There are cards with cartoons,

motorbikes

and racing cars.

Cards filled with sentimental slop

and silly jokes.

These cards speak a shared language,

Between sender and sendee.

Dad, I love you.

Dad, take it easy

Dad deserves a day off.

But where are the cards for un-special dads

For the worst dad in the world?

The ones who took a lifetime off

Where are the cards for the dads who failed?

Where are the cards for the dead dads,

the rubbish dads, the missing dads

the violent dads?

The dads we don’t love, or can’t like.

I want a card that says

‘You fucked it up.’

Maybe then you’ll stop calling.

________

TV times

Imagine

if you saw

all the bad times in your life

played out

in sequence,

like the highlights on

Big Brother.

Every time you’d let someone down

Every time you’d picked a fight

Every time you’d acted like a little brat

despite being a grown woman

to get your own way.

Would you vow to change

or just worry that

your hair looks a bit funny.

______________________

Tonight

 

Tonight

we’ll put cucumber hats

on our cucumber heads

and cucumber pads

over cucumber eyes

we’ll drink cucumber wine

and eat cucumber pie

under slices of light

we’ll get cucumber high

then all that we own

will turn green

and then white

and we’ll run through our dreams

into cucumber night.

_________________

Care

Sunk deep

in a cheap stuffed

chair

Takes two

Just to prop you up

And those two

who wipe you down

and feed your mouth

think you’re frail.

Remember the baseball bat

Behind the door you

used on my brothers?

You used

something else

on my mum.

You don’t remember;

can’t remember

But I do.

And I’m happy you’re like this

From rotten to rotting

I hope it drags out.

Your pain.

____________________

Lost

What happened to the letter

You wrote to your parents

That breezy letter

like they were a pen-pal

Or a dear friend.

I was in awe of that letter

The tone of it was just right

You told them about me, about Yarmouth,

and Brighton

You hoped they were OK

And you didn’t want anything from them.

I wept when you showed me it

and said you didn’t mind if they didn’t reply.

You said it so convincingly.

What happened to the letter?

That should have been the letter

They’d been waiting for

For 15 years.

Did they even open it?

Did your mother weep, like I did

Why didn’t she reply?

Lost in the mail once, maybe, but you sent it twice

Unless they were dead.

Your dad is 80.

But then, wouldn’t someone have told you?

What happened to the letter?

How can you turn love off?

I wonder about curiosity and

Maternal and paternal instinct.

I wish they could know you

Like I know you.

Like I love you.

If I had their address, I wouldn’t send

a letter

I’d send a bomb.

________________

Exit

The worst part about
ignoring you
is that
you haven't even noticed.

I am that insignificant.

I must have fallen through
a crack in your brain
the day after
everything got fucked.

The second worst part
is I don't even like you
any more

and I used to.
I really did.

Next month I'll be gone.

_________________________

Wait

Today our house

Our little nest

Filled with pain

Like water filling Thai houses

to the brim.

Our lungs and hearts filled up with

Hurt and hope lost.

We looked for escape

and saw only our possessions;

all the things that made us who we are

swamping us with their normality.

There was no way to float to safety.

So before you came,

I sat in the garden

in the wooden chair

The only chair that wasn’t wet

And waited to find out

If you still loved me.

And still there were things:

A reminder of the fireworks,

The barbecue covered and dry,

the summer that hadn’t yet come. 

______________