Be Longing

I ask myself 'what do I need'?
but no clear answer comes
the compass needle spins
a magnetic pole reversal of
your breath on my neck at midnight
in a dream of shivered glass

I tell myself 'I need to be seen and heard'
then hide under a month-long duvet
reading ancient scrolls by
torchlight, never making a sound
louder than the sob of eggs
black and white phoenix camouflage

I hear them shouting 'Let me see your papers'
and know that terror is the plat du jour -
what I can't tell is where inside and outside
meet anymore, which voices shrill
within, which reach the bridgehead
of mind, dropped from outer spaces

I climb the pyramid on a cardboard donkey
pasted together by laughter and tears
held in harness by milk of magnesia
oil of cloves in the nostrils of fear
tonight is a time for ear candles
and dreams of the molten queen

I am visited by the clock face
telling the time of sickness
grasping at moments long lost overboard
savagely smiling in a corpulent gale
this is the comet my stardust head
has feasted upon for fun

Lord Pluto wears an invisible helmet
he jigs out a danse macabre with old Charon
celebrating the hubris of humans
a particular braid will spin new plutons
out of relational void
into the face of complacency

Under the bed the spiders are busy
the earth sprays pressurised mud at the sky
geysers of hot grey slurry piss upwards
good for the skin, good for the grave
longing to touch you in pitiless style
with unconditional desire



kh
17.8.06

IMAGE: 'Desire' by Pino (www.naturessence.com)