poems

Untitled (Mother)

sea, ever changing, ever constant.
what do you know about mother?

you cannot know mother.

You are the tiny person, the cupped hand, and every moon

Linoprint and birthday poem for Em

the dance

one day the woman awoke
feeling strange.

bone stories

oh, i could tell it so many ways.

dead rabbit

dora found a rabbit
near the tip

my house will have no sign

you will not find it by name or number.

women throwing things into fires

on any given night
whether the moon be bright
and fat
or a shadow of herself

the sea-wives

«mother doesn’t give a shit.»

a head start

i breathed
with him barely
sipping the pale air

baba yaga’s hut

they come to me for the stupidest things.
/

mugwort

do not underestimate
the space i will claim.

geese

once more with feeling:

[bellowing] you do not have to be good

Dora

it is not a friendship,
not a business transaction,
not a love affair,
not a baby.

At last

we are drunk for the first time
in the foothills
of cadair idris
fresh out of school where for five years they called us lemons
and dykes.