The Day of Enthusiastic Belief

In the beginning


It probably never was
the way you looked at me
because I lost myself in fiction
and painted absurd pictures
of you butting the wall
with your Roman cigarette.

Over Saturday lunches
you'd ask me
if I'd hold my fork like that always
I'd say sometimes
often when the world was watching

then I'd say
look how I'm holding my fork now

or

I can't use chopsticks
and because you're last girlfriend
was Chinese
suddenly it mattered.

We are shutters against the sun


I've unravelled the double reef
loosely smoothed
the flat bodied fold
this man is now an empty space
his belly a clenched
black fist

flesh kissable

we dine
his balls a gentle knot
against my body
I underline
the sharp limbed tent
of his pant suit

we are shutters
against the sun.

This is your life - you are the cube.

At a certain stage
and for a long time

you have focus -
a ready fish eye

this includes the finer things.

You can pick a thorn from a rose
and be a rhinocerous.
You are sharp
keen to see
the pixels
in a larger picture.

You can see the desert
she is a sprawl of rippled sand.

You are a cube
spun on one point -
a brilliant white horse

She stands
one leg tucked under.

Sometimes she is a devil
with a tail
and two horns

sometimes she is spinning