Daily Archives: November 23, 2017

The addict in the bathroom by Carolyn Batcheler

I am not a silent poet

She shot up as I pissed
I paid 30 pence for the privilege
She paid with her life story
It was motivation need for us both

I didn’t expect to see her
She didn’t give a flying fuck about me
We stood by the sinks
I dropped a tissue, she dropped a needle

Bound by our femininity
Drawn to the lady on the door
Smells of used tampons and cheap disinfectant
I left, turned,  never saw her again

Her choices were limited
I ran for the suburbs
I put 50 pence in the charity tin
She begged for the next fix

..

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‘Sequence after Celan’ by Gillian Prew

Poethead

Sequence after Celan1Spring: trees flying up to their birds 

where the sun is the seeds are freed
their small sound a wound
like death watercoloured and open
           each foliated lung with its breathing understory
                the climb of springtime into the loud light
sky filled with dove-coloured words

2the climbed evening
is thick with lung-scrub

a nocturne of oxygen    of spring sillage   the raising of the dead and their flowers
the night deer with hooves of heather    the precision of an owl in *rooted darkness
                              in the tangled bramble
                              a knot of blood

3water needles
stitch up the split
shadow-he fights his way
deeper down, free 

rain wholly itself
a breathing torrent
hitting the half-lit
a million microdazzles     a mouse
    mud-buried 
    a blinking scut
the fluency of a softer death
a spring nothingness
    a heart-smoke

4in the air, there your root remains, there, in the…

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