BMP5
nzpoetsonline
Richard Zola
England
the incomparable rz returns... DP
and no object moved on a shelf...no dust was disturbed...
the door opens
light moves across blue paint
light moves
the door closes
she he
she enters first
she has 2 bags
he has 1
vegetable cans
through plastic
through a name
an aubergine
falls from a bag
rolls towards the stove
he bends
puts the aubergine
on the table
she heats coffee
he arranges cups
a bowl spoons
sits
opens a magazine
she feels the street
on her skin
in this high room
sits
pours coffee
watches him
his hair
he folds the magazine
tilts paper in light
his eyes lowered
she sees skin
the window is behind him
she stands
walks across the window
the street moves right
she walks back
the street moves left
a child stumbles
the room is warm
she looks beneath the table
his shoe is torn
her feet naked
her shoes to the side
he reaches for a cup
she sees
his hands
one time she found a feather
made a quill
wrote bird
wrote BIRD
she begins to say:
i found a
says:
takka t takka t takka
takka takka t
takka t takka t takka takka t
tikka takka
he puts the magazine on the table
dances
hair hands
she:
takka t takka takka t
takka t takka t takka takka t
he:
dances
he she
she he
you me
takka t
on the street figures fall
when she talks her hands are still...sometimes she stands...then sits
when a child
did she
in illuminated water
embrace
copulate with an octopus
is what she told
she saw carrin crows
on fallen stone
in december
and the radio
in an attic
she lifted touched
and who was
was she
therese of liseux
near the well
there were roses
she wanted wooden shoes
with windmills painted
3 men with her
a voice:
the length of some grass
is determined by wind
who
which one spoke
she they
standing in sharp grass
the sting of sand on flesh
and the corpse of a gull
the sting of sand on flesh
and the corpse of a gull
men beneath the sand
dressed for sunday
hair combed
moving left right
with the movement of the tide
dressed for sunday
in cardigans corduroy
breathing
are their eyes
beneath the sand
open eyed
men in rows
and breathing
in the cafe near the boats
she ate from shells
the ova of mermaids
is what she told
her brother
erect in her bed
take this sock
there must be no stains
for her
she dug into peat
peat filled the spaces
between nail and flesh
on hands and knees
she bit through roots
beginning not at midnight
she dug in peat
bit through roots
on a moor somewhere
she kissed a corpse
a corpse rose up
and she kissed the face
she'd come to bury
something
something she'd found
now it was lost
taken
become stone
3 men with her
an octopus
in illuminated water
the sting of sand on flesh
if
a rose from therese of lisieux
had
fallen
been carried to her door
in the mouth of a shrew
she could would
have
if she could would
have
if she could have
tipped the rose
inclined her head
had there been
inside the rose
perpetually
some kind of
she waits for words
a curtain curves
before a partly opened window
BMP5
nzpoetsonline
