Wednesday, 21 November 2012


There’s harmony
in Andrew’s dance, hidden
in rhythm and infinite
orbit, suggesting

‘Care less of scorn
or judgment or gossip
but feel for the real song
in movement and tears.’

Turn immortality,
sweet nature’s harmony
infused, and infusing,
body and soul.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

Hunger Games

At the end of our little flight
- right among the scrambling moments
when people panic, stand and panic again
(grabbing their luggage) a lovely girl

twirled and kissed her handsome boyfriend
- open mouthed like a hungry fish
unhinged her jaws and swallowed head,
shoulders, torso, then his legs.

She looked around and gulped down a fatter girl,
whole, and formed a bigger plan for dinner
- wings and fuselage, engine, petrol, oil,
all inside her belly, masticated.

Frustrated now, she turns her beady eye
towards the airport, city – walks along and hugs her belly, sighs.