pomes
pomes
pomes
after breakfast
for
a week
a month
a year
write a
BREAKFAST PSALM
a kind of mundane / spiritual poem
1.
as he sat down
to breakfast on
child number three
saturn mumbled something like
'lately i’ve been feeling that lately i’ve been feeling that lately i’ve been feeling that
something isn’t quite right...'
can you feel me?
22.
children & dogs
are good at telepathy
i want to be a child & a dog again
not an insensitive adult a
dept at touch typing
but unable to speak
on my god given
telephone
18.
i had to go
to wakefield citilodge
to solve the problem
with quantum physics
but i didn’t do it alone
i enlisted the help of
a 3 year old boy
he scooted back and forth
on the legs of his white plastic high chair & said
‘look, there are waves emanating out of me
& not only forwards but also backwards & everything that has
ever happened
& will happen
is occurring RIGHT
NOW’
24.
i gave birth
to a one legged jackdaw & as she hopped
out of my womb
she said
‘my name is Kutka
& i have come to teach you about control:
you have less than a speck of dust
in a hurricane
& that’s the good part’
29.
& if life
is suffering
then what are
the starlings playing at?
Breakfast Psalms & Subsequent Eruptions
SOLD OUT
limited edition risograph publication of poems
and essays now available to buy online.
Features CA Conrad, Nasim Luczaj, Coby Sey,
Izabella Scott, Felice Moramarco & GFR.
Originally printed by John Henry Baker at Heath Street Baptist Church.
165.
jordan peterson
crawled into my
large intestine
& refused to budge
the doctor said
she'd seen this
before & the only
way to lure him
out was with
turkey ham
'he just loves
turkey ham'
she said as she
pulled the endoscopic
camera out of me
& rinsed it in the sink
i heed her advice
& that night placed
a fishing rod
at the end of my bed
so that the hook
would dangle above
my mouth as i slept
--i baited it
with turkey ham
and turned the light off
i woke to find not only
JP snagged
but also slavoj zizek
slurring over a platter
of roast chicken
no wonder my breath
has smelt like shit
of late