2358
7.165
15.vi.26
set
afloat
ekphrastic
for Lorna Robertson’s 2023 ‘Love and loneliness of a young mother’
mannequin pale gone faceless
at least here are some lips
why corsetly
smudge wove bent
there’s the cloud of coiffure
a dripstreak stocking trim
it’s cheering to be so outgazed
to measure silence
let lines run
elsewhere must appear
it’s only the shoes point on
2357
7.164
14.vi.26
mid
winterlight
Gore
Cove Track Series
everything’s larger
with weather
and under a hat
no clock
but cloud to hide a sun
grass grows over rot
how old is what’s before?
brackish whiff
in leafspill
a sandstone wall
the dead stand a long while yet
and I, to catch breath
taking all this in
magpie riff
crow caw
touch of sky
or a voice thrown
stairs are an upward haul
so there’s my tide gone out
some hammering and unwise saws
bitter engines of the city hum
I come for the daydark here
make an X on the page
it’s wherever my feet fall
treasure marks the map
2356
7.163
13.vi.26
a footlong dog at the Burgomaster
fifty years ago
boys’ own
who
could we cram behind the backseat of the beetle?
T! A drove his tripping once, not far
that
cannot have been a good idea
mainly
we were on foot until then
or
else on two wheels, self propelled
and
sometimes there were brakes
the
train for more remote adventures
there
was the Charles, there was the Greengate
no
bouncers, but they’d size you up
there
was the uncles’ Christmas Scotch
mum
and dad didn’t drink, would never miss
three
of us down at the old quarry
a
three way split, vomit
these,
it turned out
were
all survival skills
2355
7.162
12.vi.26
the picture gets bigger and bigger
for Ralph Wessmann
don’t we call that kind of thing progress?
a world expands as we describe
worlds multiply
they shine their suns
make moons of a latest fling
take all in
the picture gets bigger bigger
we’re all from a song sheet singing
thing to sneak past, lurk in a crack
doesn’t matter what you think
always leave a trail
life lengthens to be lived
and in the end, sink
to the full extent of this law
it’s like looking out from the whale’s jaw
before you’re counting the ribs
2354
7.161
11.vi.26
walking
in the after rain
a
Tuesday trickle mist singing
light
never to be repeated
falls
and
then the sun again
a proof
stand
on a leaf
set
beak to meditation
the
cleft and settle mist and clear
shows
up a valley fold
one
goes on from here
these
are the bones of my day
2353
7.160
10.vi.26
at all
events
strange armour
the damaged wear
squeaking past
the fact
and often blame
themselves
for the crimes
of the scot free
lounging smug
have you heard them
say
‘there’s always
a choice’?
and something
must be true
they blame
themselves away
done to and
doing
kicked up for a
fuss
they know to be
scared
the damaged do
try to think of
it without religion
you fuck up
every time
2352
7.159
9.vi.26
planning a
more portable life
an ant’s way in
the moss
little filching
forest framed
with rain
I decided to
swim in just this skin for it
for instance
to go with
these few thoughts
nothing scratched
country other
than this flag
and for a song
I am turning over
the leaf
of the coin
of a heart held
high
I am a moment
in the mirror
I am going now
holding the
camera still
