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