missing link

I want to write ___ a letter,
describing the meaning of everything I have
ever written
and send it, hidden in a chest marked
'Fossils' to see what happens.

poem on glass opposite a court of justice

I found it really funny
when she asked
you if he was okay,
then asked
you if you were too

isn't it odd, still
that no one asked
me that, not even
after, not even yet

I found it really funny
how nice he was,
the look of terror
behind his kind eyes
but then

I remember being him,
meeting a beard
and scoffing
because I'd had you
and he did not

so I think the fear I saw
was mine
reflected through
Seven stars and back
into my horse-terror eyes

the white's all flecked
my heart pounding
I want to make you laugh like that
I used to make you laugh like that
How does he make you...

But those are those 3am failings
I always talk about -
the worst lesson, and here it is;
is that you're okay, by all accounts,
maybe you never weren't
and I'm still here, doing this
in the small, odd hours

that doesn't seem funny anymore...

a quiet night

haha - that was all 3am failings,
this time round it'll be
a
sure thing minted in kebab
sauce truth, cause you know that's real
not
a
surcease, more the difference between
what's in your wallet
and what you find on a groggy Sunday later
a
how and slap-day why, crashing through
jackets for stubs to suggest how
what
you found makes what you had
and that's; weeping on speed-dial
international jitters
made real through republics
and a thought that he's...
haha -
that was all 3am visions,
turned kneaded baked
and I'm not that way
inclined anymore.

In a city of lights and castles...

Have you -
not this time
Oh. So it's...
Me? No
Not yet
And you're -
Unfortunately
Without him?
We'll see how it goes
So what -
Did he do -
that I don't?
I'm still not sure.
But it's out right?
Mostly
But that's an ancient city...
I know
Sometimes I think,
well, that you shouldn't...
Why do you get to know?
Names, dates, times
I still live in assumptions
a fever that -
how can you still...?
I wish you well
From a distance, when it's rumours
That you can't see yet,
It was never you...

thoughts for a play mostly in my head...

Coming home,
Drowning
The body in the house
The old man
Lemon fights
Show me yours, piss like a dog
Losing dad
The cancer.
The girl down the street
Sarah started the fire.
The woman is her mother.
Tony is her father.
Gevard her grandfather.
Gilgamesh.
They search for immortality.
She’s dead for the whole play.
No one can acknowledge it.
Except at the holiday home, spared the flames. Near the water tank on the farm. The old swimming hole.
A dream place of floating – dark, secret.
A golem lives in there.
He makes a bargain for the girl, a bargain with Tony.
They dance.
The golem drowns. The ritual is complete.
The fire burns animals alive. Gevard remembers.
As Tony cannot.