UntuitionHard to follow



A birthday

I raised you with my own saliva, words and wine
Tried to imagine myself resenting you
But in my mind’s eye there’s no light

Your eyes are bright and your hair is ashen
Like the chestnut haze of cigarettes
You wrap these long arms around my body
Like you knew that none were left

Of the turns round the earth
Vertiginous hours of the clock
Time perverts us all
In a muddy well’s reflection

Genes in an orderly line
Now alphabet soup
I think tomato

Send me a mind that’s clean
Orderly and sensical
Parallel and organised
To fill my skull and skin

Physically clean
Woman too mean
Moral has-been
Middle aged

A contradiction
Of non-fiction
With great diction
Turn the page