the last sin
  pale ashen sky
a bleary eye
clouds of recurring screams...
i am a zoo
  an octopus leviathan
tentacles into an ocean
of unformed emotions...
syphilis and love  
  syphilitic pall
stifles the clear blue
i contort...
 
shell and pearl
  amidst highs and lows
in life's ocean flows
a shell peony-mouthed...
 
i am an unmarried mother
 
  fed on stings
of barbed milk morality
my child-plankton...
 
the lovers
  cell upon cell
bridge of their union
hung on the pillars...
rebirth
  ogre of age
and time cavil
at a warm picture...
the young today
  innocence thaws
at the altar
of ambition...
 

Butterfingers

She had become fragile and monk-like

A brooding intensity in pain

Preparing for the passing

Rites of passage or her final daily battles

Cancer nibbled at her innards

But couldn’t break her spirit

At night she was drugged to sleep

A child to her daughter, a mother to her son

She was there now, someplace else now

One such evening he held her hand

Rubbing softly, caressing her

Body and soul, her flawless skin

She gently touched his fingers

He felt a tremble, heard a murmur

“Butterfingers”, she said

A mother to her son 



3 November 2008