WORDS - COLLETE O'KANE
IMAGERY- FRANKIE BAKKER
Twenty Seconds
make a twenty second phone call
reasure me
I have not been used
discarded
forgotten
Past His House
I am thirteen
again
wanting to get a boy
to stop kicking the ball
that he might look up
and see me
Carbon Footprint
I hold onto the possibilities
as I step into the warm shower
..
maybe my body will disapper
down the sweet-smelling drain
over scrubbed
I Want To Tell Him
how i become wet
with memory
and feel him rise again
but he is gone
My Educated Mouth
as i kneel before him
he is unaware of my amusement
for his words keep repeating in my automate
He Tells Me
he pictures his fluid
spreading up
through my body
like the roots
of a tree
that he could stay forever
living within me
Gold Rush
we are colluding
our eyes holding
like a handshake on the deal
as we agree
in clumsy metaphor
to his imminent betrayal
The Curve Of My Hip
as if i were a fine sculpture
in a Parisienne garden.
The Creation
How shall I create thee
in space and time
when you turn away form me
as you must
will i become a vengefull creator
.
Almond Tart
I saved him the last piece of almond tart
as forgotten as i
I Want To Share The Moon
slowly draw into our warm mouths
martini-soaked olives
into the reflected moon of rosemary infused oil
Body Oil
anointing Christ's feet
honoring fishes and loaves
i
like
a
cannibal
where i greedily ate the lot