I’ve been poetically dry for a few years. I know why and I won’t bore you with it.

Meanwhile, my photography is blooming, –ish. When I moved to Esch, I started sneaking up on flowers. Luckily for me, given my dreadful stalking skills, flowers are not very good at running away.

I decided to try a poetic response to a flowery photo. A couple came out well, and more than a couple were thoroughly dreadful (judge for yourself). What I really learnt is that I’m pretty sh*te at responsive poetry. Oh jazz, why do you deny me now? [FX, distant muttering, “cos you’ve got an ’eadcold, you idiot”]

Anyway, here’s an example (a video version was published in Avant Appalachia 7):

image: escher blummen

horrid insects
        translucent flower


another man’s hand
    slides up thigh
        long summer girl
                 i desire

her delighted grin
    besmirches naïve beauty
        i devise

i’ve got her wrong
    i’m the naïf  

christ on a pike

I have yet to feel a way to respond to the current lockdown. It’s snowing outside.

Originally published on Self–Quarantine Lines.