After Afternoon

AFTER AFTERNOON

Somewhere amidst the crumbling of witches,
have you forgotten me?
Damn loud in late-night movies,
weeping into healthy apples,
drenched in order to elbow the boundaries
that be glaring under cars in the only society,
no doubt feeling you do everything she can't.
But didn't you scramble him a cigarette in the shower
before bingo took over breakfast,
somewhere amidst the little oysters?
I almost got caught in a watershed;
the silencing of toilet paper,
Momma scraping hell.
Guilt is a universe of gas.
Your warm body grew wet,
viewing this woman dreaming in surreal flicks.
Looking up you preferred the dark lipstick,
stapled her hand to butcher someone's soul.
The normal wee nude's not something that you need to call for -
just a chaingang of the information to get yourself started with the dove.
She thinks of the beauty of food.
You can't keep it from your mother!

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 13th June 1993

Publications

1994 Oasis (UK)
1997 Poetry Lounge (Internet)

Lydia in Lesbos

LYDIA IN LESBOS

The white upturned wondering eyes in time to rot.
Hieroglyphics and arrows of sinners?
What's in heaven, but the air?
Her eye discourses - I've attempted to bed
and think I am floating slowly shoreward -
surely it is the media?
Thus it seemed like an entire realm of fire,
knowing if living is providing a passive reality.
Remove clothes from strange ladies in ancient Greece;
many were laid.
I hope you enjoyed them as some
more popular sport than fishing off Chios.
It is all but no more than birth to their movement.
I've tried persuasion.
She can be seen scurrying
in the company of one young woman who returns to live.
Joy was for another.

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 11th July 1992

Publications

1994 Oasis (UK)
1998 The Bohemian Forest (Internet)
2003 Chanticleer Magazine (UK)