purple blue thistle
ghosts/ghosting mouths
they’re pulling purple blue thistle/our heads
prickle their grey thumbs.
the un-holdable bouquet/clamped
with their veil of see through teeth
blood is not blood it is
a shadow veining the natural light
that our eyes fail to adjust to
and our glossy mouths fail to lipsynch
the weeded purply hill
when we speak between that strained speech
purple blue thistle is © Candi V. Auchterlonie
lookers stone
looking glass/under glass eye stares they become lazy moons/but try to catch these petaled fliers with your hands,
just try, they’re slippery mints tonguing fate.
my house is plagued with the secret of mint moths and they’ve begun to eat the hearts out from all of my best coats.
lookers stone is © Candi V. Auchterlonie
tearing cotton from your breast
poems from grand static/stasis that hurts with its stained whiteness.
tearing cotton from your breast is © Candi V. Auchterlonie
the flood of man
the tall-tall creek/creeps into your backyard.
your very own backyard/and you flood
a river into the wild
your things/they trickle out of your life
the things you always meant to keep.
the flood of man is © Candi V. Auchterlonie
the long drive
you will always have
the right of way.
the long drive is © Candi V. Auchterlonie
into the day we dream/into the night we work
spines are bridges
for tomorrow
we hold every hope up
to the jagged shadows of our bindings
each and each colourless moth
of us dissolves within the window pane of day/flirting death
only separate as wings are.
we hold every hope/we might chance/ideas of forever
and stay with them.
into the day we dream/into the night we work is © Candi V. Auchterlonie |
The above poems are from Candi V. Auchterlonie’s forthcoming collection , leave this death alone. I am linking here her previous collection , Impress (Published by Punk Hostage Press, 2012)
Chris Murray 