this day is not a litter collection day - you will
say sorry. freckle sneak.



Tuesday

It was a Tuesday - so the cryings sounded nothing like the fumble
of the dustbin men collecting, or of abused,
neglected housewives shoved on early morning telly.
(The rigid hosts all nodding. The rigid, stately hosts all nodding
to boast forth such feigned and shameless empathy.)
And
quite possibly it was everyday...
other than the fact that this was undoubtedly a Tuesday and
yet not the kind of Tuesday to conduct itself in the
summer - so the cryings failed to sound
anything at all like old men cutting the grass.

I wouldn't know - but if there was ever a first time you
spent the entire night in that steady little bed,
fully clothed and sleeping steadily as a simple road map
then she has eroded it from her steady and
unwavering brain.

If I love her at all then it is only inside three reasons (so I said
"sorry". I said
"surely I must try harder.)

1.) All of her clothes are the exact same
colour as the Thames is on
any given Tuesday to present itself in the unsummer. (Often I wish and wish that I was old enough to describe summers as "heady". Of course I couldn't be sure if you already know or not - but sometimes - in Backwards Space - support groups are held, to help people in coming to terms with not being born in the decade of their choice.)

2.) That voice. That voice is like the squelch of
tiny little fingers pushing the flinty seeds into each strawberry on earth.
The settling gulp. The resting life.

3.) Because even with those bulging headphones on. Even with
Mr. Sincerely L. Cohen plugged in
she still stops
to watch the scruffy buskers
singing.

(Her head feels like the twinkling of the coins
Splashing in the hat.)

I promised I would be so good today. We promised we'd scribble a dreadful note to the dreadful lady in the flat above -
begging to end the dreadful struggle over who can
moan
or scream the most like a rainforest chopping itself
into ballroom floors.

It just says "oh so dreadfully, dreadfully sorry".

Sometimes I feel awful. Sometimes her face looks like a dreadful eclipse
and her hips swell up like bruised plums. And sometimes he thumps and he shouts and shouts, and tells her "fuck you" and so all of the sculptures are bumping grass verges and all the grass verges are almost dead people - and so there is no sequel. There wasn't time.
Sometimes he ruptures and calls her "you old dilapidated cunt".

Sometimes I wish the ceiling would split open and
she would drip down like rain drops and land
splat in my tea, and that I could be pleasant for once and keep her warm in my belly.

Just I am not very good at that.

I couldn't bare it.

Sometimes your lovely face is so close that
your eyelashes feel like tiny brooms
trying to sweep away my freckles.




Poetry by Claire
Read 1055 times
Written on 2005-08-05 at 13:06

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Claire
It's not long at all compared to many poems
2005-08-08


Claire
It's not long at all compared to many poems
2005-08-08


Commentally Ill
1) it's creative
2) it's long
3) i didn't finish reading because of number two. no, not poop. my attention span won't allow for something this long, even if it's freckled.
2005-08-07


intothehaze
oh dear. there is really a lot here. I see one part I want to catch and hold, then wham! there's another. ;)

very unique and fun to read.

the last stanza was especially good.
2005-08-05


Mariza Góes
I really enjoyed this story.
The facts, feelings, time and places were so very well described, and you ended it in a poetic way.Loved how you compared eyelashes with tiny brooms:)
Thanks for this very good read!
2005-08-05


Claire
think i love songs of love and hate best or maybe the songs of leonard cohen album, tricky, i worship him
2005-08-05


chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
i like the future album the best, though i have the new album ten new songs, i just haven't listened to it enough. don't think i have really a favourite song as he has so many that are so smooth. but yeah the future album is the one i tend to play the most.
2005-08-05


Claire
whats your favourite cohen song???????????
2005-08-05


chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
a fantastic journey, lost inside the everyday, the world waving angrily, wanting to be seen as life ignores time. it's hard to know where to begin with commenting on this, there is so much happening, i want some strawberries, i want some music playing, something cheerful by cohen. the woman here sounds so lonely, yet so close is a smile waiting to be hers, if only she'd reach for it.
2005-08-05