Dance

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.

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.