Category Archives: from Better Than Sleep

“We may no longer gather rosebuds” – from BETTER THAN SLEEP XI (Bruised Petals)

We may no longer gather rosebuds:
Listen – midst the ash and bone
Limp red roses whisper tales
Of rosebuds dead and gone.

The flies drone on then stop. The silence
Fills with heat and sun and smells.
A fly moves. In the silence
I think I hear St Osyth’s bells

Ring out across the empty marsh
Green and grey, the cold grey sea
Washing the foaming sand, a gull
Call – call – call – to me.

BETTER THAN SLEEP I: A YARD BEHIND A BAR

BTSforKtnl

I: A Yard Behind A Bar, Casablanca, Morocco

Sometimes I sit here ithyphallic,
god of the beasts.
The flies attend
and tortoises when in the mood
bite.

A geranium they threw out blooms.
We commune.
If flies were bigger, didn’t wait –
like tortoises, say –
I’d be “food! I am food!”
white and gymnosophic.

Lord of the flies, a turbot head
begins to breed.
I smile. The geranium
nods.