Selected Poems (2019)

A list of publications, including downloadable PDF copies, is available here.

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I remember that time last year, with the bottle shaped like Champagne, that
had me excited, I made us take a photograph
and all my love for you in my eyes had you excited,
instead we drank warm gin and bourbon (I’m sure I can’t stand bourbon)
and had a quiet night’s sleep. Can you recall the lights from Kew? At New
Year’s gone; that one shaped like a peacock
had you excited, you made me take a photograph
and all the electricity in the trees had me excited
to drink wine with you, with the television muted
(I’m still not sure whether I like the Talking Heads) and rest my head on your shoulder.

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Lament my leaving 
so that I might translate 
your absence to an object, 
or mine to these words, 
both held precious, unwanted 
and unremarkable, 
like that scar just below 
my seventh rib; 
you say you don’t notice. 
I’ve painted that scar 
seven times this year, but 
I still cannot see it.

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My bedside lamp glows red,
reflecting an old gift bag I never received
the whole thing is quite seedy;
I am thinking of you, missing you
between my sheets, or arms, or legs,
but instead of your back, my red
lamp illuminates a book of sculptures
that I don’t particularly like.
Their forms will never be able
to replicate the sight of you, over me, so perfectly lit.