BIRTH GLEAM, GLEAM BIRTH     23rd January 2004, late afternoon us   here’s reaching cold-faces face our warmth inside’s sides outlight winter   dim  candles   cake   chocolate-selves   35 flesh years   outing cross out   blow a wish   a flame of away blowing for yet & death   against ritual day   birthgrow   my children   they as growing me am I that me to call me?   me of parts voices you today   birth   happy voices clear their gazes   years that flame meet breath   is it memory? brown shine   chocolate cake   collect hope! glints like intent blinks search intense pearls my children gleam years   their young noses  we count glistenings to split dark/light winter 35   I’m january!  angles stand candles   lit way                                * way lit candles stand   angles   january   I’m 35   winter light/dark split by glisten   count years   my children   a gleam on nose   their young pearls of intense search   blink   intent like glint   hope collects in sweet sauce cake   chocolate-shine   brown memory it is here   here   as my breath meets flames that years   go    a way   and circle back   my children’s gazes   their clear voices   (to you   happy birth day to you)   voices parts of me   call to me that I am   part of me   growing as they grow   birth   day   ritual against death   and yet for   a blowing away of flame   a wish   a blow out   cross ing out years   flesh of my children & my 35 selves   chocolate cake   candles   dim winter light out   side   inside’s warmth from our faces faces cold by reaching here’s us Bowaterok I page crinkles    black pulls    flicker    your finger traces spaces   between leaves    white/black inside    brown door covering book    clean & old smell    stare    a black/white matrix wriggle    on you    into you    you    can slip into letters    let    yourself sink beyond    crisp print into paper’s vast deep millimetres    your light squashed    into black ink bleeds    paper’s white nought    drips lengthening to trickle ...     II ... plop pluhf splat    water talk over rock    smear    like idea of soul    water-kisses    of water on water    trickles expand accelerate to rills    rivulets & least    resistance    clear silver    clear gold    pools of clear distance    liquid of aim     ripples catch eyes    and stare    back somewhere forgotten    surface tension    deflects & lets    cuddle-waves    water wears a way    wears a permanence of change    gleams    a constant garment never staying    page crinkles sound pulls    black makes ... III ... pools    or some rivers of other    talk traces spaces water    over rock between leaves    water on book in water    thin garment on ground    book-smells of clean old    wet sometimes else some wear together can tension    cuddles with waves read    rivulets of least resistance    wriggle in you glint of pages    of water turning                         soaked    leaves like love indefinable SHEIDEK I put the shape    away begin    the distance of other we located our    place of forgotten the chosen    no place is existing with    out us you were far    off near    to the war    drobe tucked under the board across an ocean list    en    to the creaking as feet approach don’t    breathe out and the dust’s treachery    will    not swirl it is for bidden to be    gindis    covery    in the seclusion you may start memory loss on the other    hand    a whole house vanished she began    by making    a map of the corner she got bricked into the map    was intricate by following the map she located her loss was    able   to paint & polish it so its beauty pushed    her deeper    into the corner her husband    never suspects the deeds of the skirtingboard                    all yesterday    yes    to dust II she lets her hands    free they go all    up&down unseen textures they    drag her body be    hind as they meticulously    road rid ride    lost ground her    nails pick at every splinter    or hiss of scurf she just lets her whole    touch-factory prod    uce possibilities of location the    man watching    could not tell    what    was    happening his eyes    were tunnels that visual info travels    down    through but no sense could mix with    is    with his cave brain the light of one    thought glimmers    in the cave of him the pressure    of this light dents the deep tangled texture of ground her    hands madly go along her hand-pause    she feels this light    -press sure an even & smooth    dent    tiny but distinct    ink amongst raucous obstacles bristling against her sweetly finger    printed probes    robes rob III she lets her hands begin    the distance we    lo cated our place of un    seen textures the chosen no place dragged her body without us    you    were far and meticulously rode the lost ground off near to the wardrobe just tucked nails    picking at every splinter under the board across an    ocean    of scurf she just let her whole    feet approach touch-factory produce the man    watching could dust treachery’s location    it is    forbidden to wear tunnels    disc ovary in the sec    lusion you travelled through memory loss on the other mixed    his cave brain she of one thought gleams a whole    house vanished in the cave of him making a map of the other pressure this light dented beauty    pushed light pressure into the corner tiny but distinct fingerprinted probes of    yesterday                         ‘s skirtingboard    THE FINAL TOUCH it is a pink    deer like love opened then    a yellow tree that    I say see    the white doves of my teeth with    this    speech eat the apple of my syllable & the    blooms    a crotch will show when    word grows I    will be as para Keats    perched bright in the dim vibrating jungle of the soul’s    working    it in & working it    out I will be    an eater of kernels’ & seeds’ tight-packed laughter    it is    spoken through a union of pink fresh bounding past tense    & the brown adjectives of old wolves in future what I say    spills    viscously from my tree    -veined lungs utterance    as paint it is moist    furls brush (s)ing against my skin’s blind    sin until sun    dies down into my bones & the    empty    dark is as loud as firestorm    full    of bees breaking my          frame with terror    ’s()able beauty LADY ARCHAEOLOGY she pushed her fingers through bone    the street meshed with one sigh    gone & broken    talk    cluttered her finger -nails    why do you look?    spelled    across a nail and the hammer on the casket tap    ping    out    a search she pushed her gaze into the cave of a last    appearance    it grew thicker with interest & smells of coinage    accumulated    in a bank of her longing    men tried    to    prize    the doors of her idea open    tumblers clicked locks bit    they said she’d    thrown her jewel mouth out from her face    in    to a crowd of men & twigs    twigs ignited men all scrabbling    to kiss    her thrown glitter    she pushed her fingers    through    her own eye-sockets soft eyes vanishing like gas    fingerprints    on her probing fingers unravelling into    a hole    inside her idea    a whole    cathedral crushed    to the size of a button    she wears this button   on her coat her coat    is camouflaged    meant    to blend in with five differing kinds    of love & all    seventy-seven powders of anguish    you can hear her look whoosh through    a sky    of a lonely man’s gaze she sneaks up with    bone fingers outstretched            her gas eyes unblinking    she builds    with sighs