The gallery
Delightfully, now, we dance in the undergrowth where brambles, so persuasive,
regulate our tender desires
We grow so fast
We are oiled so well
In the torn bark of a weeping willow
we find a well-carved smile
Harshness is lost amidst the ancient stone masterpieces
Synchronised shadows, calm and polite, moving elegantly guiding
lost faces towards smoothly polished façades bathed in neon light
Once again, the sun rises on time
Once again, the automated air-conditioning clicks on evaporating a stray tear at its duct
A moderate word welcomes in another first day
as reflections fill emptied out eyes.
© Michael Jackson
To and fro
I see you
You do know, don’t you?
I see you still smiling as if I had stretched your mouth with pegs
as if I had told a bad joke and you felt obliged to laugh
I had slept well
I had enjoyed the company of a bed-mate
Wash day is still three days away
then hang it up to dry
The cable is still hanging from the ceiling
The workman just left it there
He just left it there, hanging, reminding me that there’s still more stuff to do
Repaint the walls…
I had three children
Little things
The second was my favourite
He was good
He was five
like unripe fruit
It can’t stay this way though
It mustn’t!
You are swaying
I can see you in the mirror
The window is open
The breeze fills the room with your to and fro
and there’s still that mouse behind the bedroom cupboard
I can’t get to it from here
and, anyway, the cat died weeks ago
The workman isn’t coming back
He said he could do no more for me
He said he had wanted to finish the room but the paint wouldn’t stick
I asked him why but he said nothing
He had just left leaving the cable hanging and the walls raw
and, as he had left, he gave you a another nudge.
© Michael Jackson
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