Tuesday, March 27, 2007



The sound of her breathing

too intimate
to share

Friday, March 23, 2007

Nursery rhymes

Each peach pear plum
A few things about my mum.

Heavy-hearted, what to say?
will she live another day?

Little Mrs. Pepperpot, shrinking to doll size
Bitzer Maloney, all skinny and boney

except her dear hateful belly, humpty-dumpty like

Walking on knives smiling through the laceration
telling stories in the face of the dark

a sea of tears
all those lost mothers and motherless children
a needle of ice in the heart
the nightingale singing, bleeding into the rose

white to red

Sweetness and horror
Comfort and loss
Joy and pain

the fairy stories helped us learn when we were little
and then we learn all over again

Like the Cheshire Cat
- there's not much left of her except her smile.

Where to stop? heavy hearted
How soon will we be parted?

Thursday, March 08, 2007


her head is so small

like an old old person
or a child

i could put her in my pocket
and bring her home


the way she smiles at him

could break and heal your heart

in a long instant