All entries for Friday 11 December 2009

December 11, 2009

WAR MANIFESTO 1: Cold War Bunker

BOO


I WANT TO LIVE

IN A COLD WAR

BUNKER. I WANT

TO LIVE IN A COLD

WAR BUNKER. I

WANT TO LIVE IN

A COLD WAR

BUNKER.


and i will storm
onto that stage

and i will stage
that storm

and i will stride
through storms

and my storms
will stage

another cold
war.

But
one
man
will
change
nothing.

I
keep
telling
the
estate
agent

that
one
man
will
change
nothing.


I cannot believe that she was my dressing gown

boo saville



Madeline McCann was lying
as a pile of crumpled flannel
under the haze of the drizzle
of the morning’s curtain smog.



The fabric folded around her
face, pleating blonder hair
around the heavy hand resting
on her concave cheek.


She lay like a statue. A toppled
-don’t say fallen, she was never
fallen- statue. Don’t, there was
no sediment. There was no dust.

I did nothing.




Edit!

Follow-up to How I Spent My Summer, 2001 from THE burning boy

Here is a rewrite of 'How I Spent My Summer, 2001'

broken tree


1.
The tree startles
the clouds.

We shiver praise.

One time lovers
sheltering from the rain.

We shock no-one.

The tree gorges
on the birds.

2.
My brother fled over the river.
I saw his shadow wain soft
Through the mottled glaze of my window.

Patches of Iron heather
strangled my attention away
from his garroted gait.

Only tree. My brother fled.
The stench of age hung
strange on its matted branches.

3.
The river and the bark
mould love on the bank.
We cull romance.

My brother fled, and I followed.
The tree stretched my
blue dungarees.

The branch twists me.
Still. The branch twists.
Oh, and I fled

over the river, to
the hovering rope swing.
To the spindled branch,

swinging soft on the pink
rope. It rests, taut, around
my view of the stars.

4.
The clouds fled, and I followed.

I cannot taste the moon.


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