HOT CHIPS! NOW!

(After Genevieve Callaghan's 'Cake! Now!')

I want to write you shitty poetry that makes my pen explode

But instead I stand upon the table and scream

Hot Chips! Now!

I am getting older and my body cannot hold me up

Nothing sweet can stay afloat in this much salt

I am so over yoga and so over being sober

I am so clever that it sticks me to my seat

Please, waitress!

Come and clear away my dangerous young body,

Let me digest the senseless beauty I have seen

BLIND BABY ANGELS

Blind baby angels

Rolling on each others yellow limbs

Coughing up secrets like coins

Sickly children playing in the mess of raw sensation

Hollow homilies to live in like a home

The curling tail of afternoon

Wrapped us in each other, let us

Forget about the internet and that our mothers live alone

DREW WRITING ME A POEM

He has one line left

Then I will be a written woman

He has one line left

Then I’ll let him sleep the night

He has one line left

Then I’ll watch TV or clean the kitchen

He has one line left

And then everything will be just right

MYSTERY BRUISES

I wish you had given me them
But
I must have been walking into furniture
Again

WHAT I THOUGHT

I thought

you could

tell me

The colour of god’s hair or something

A TOY-HEARTED GIRL

A toy-hearted girl 

Tried to be tiny:

Entreating a

bullet-sized boy

Serene and so small

She’s no trouble at all!

(Just look at her lamb-like limbs)

A petite little package

Bundled up neat

Egg shell skin

Match stick shins

Fine-boned fish feet

(She’s complete

and yet practically pocket-size!)

Don’t be mislead

She will not for a milli-nano-baby-second

Pretend to be more than she is:

She will stay just this way and will never

NOT EVER

Become heavy and leaden

Heaving

Fat-hearted

Lumpish or

Loud or

A little too clever

(If you know what I mean)

She is your treat

She’s for keeps

She will always forever play just the same way that she did as a kid

(And the best bit:  you will never

Feel shameful

Again)