Poems
daze of body & soul come to a / won’t come to an Toby Fitch Sweet nothings in our ear A blessed mouthfu ... after Horace, Odes I, v What slim-hipped beachboy dripping for him you have braided soon, black moods, black I was woken at some hour a burglar had broken in my step on the stairs above him was lying low in one of the Windsor chairs, unaware it w ... The storm blows you back When poppies drowsed you The dawn is only a thought. The fulcrum on which we rest our newsprint, our toothless fingerprints, our balmy Paxil days. Only a thought of the windy, dwindling kind. Wake to urgent messages, to the waltz of hours crisp and fragile as thin pastry. To roulette of lightning yes. Of arid no. &nb ... Cut out a sixth of the heart. Aesop knew it: His heart
end on this / the last night of dearth
brows
Recording
cherub pumpkin dearest chuck
but to the heart which is the better
listener the password
to a tongue that only two in their comings
and goings have access to
with musk is riding you
now on a bed of roses
in your snug den, Pyrra? Is it
those honey-gold locks
in a knot so neat, so
homely? One day
looks, he'll be cursing
you and the fickle
gods who have ... States of Poetry 2016 - New South Wales | 'Visitation on Myrtle Street' by David Malouf
of darkness before dawn by a scent so heavy
on my senses, on the room, that I was convinced
and was loitering
upstairs or in the hallway, or having caught
in the laundry, or sitting
upright and unbreathing
its funnel ardent
its wide hungry eye
Its tongue croons you
onto flatline of prairie
red breath drew
gravity into your limbs:
you yearned for tall ... States of Poetry 2016 - New South Wales | 'Mouse (Wunderkammer)' by Kate Middleton
At a day old—furless,
close-eyed, resembling nothing
so much as an infant's thumb—
he can survive it.
The mouse can regrow that missing part
in three short weeks.
to be mouse-hearted
is as good as wearing
the swagger of lion.
perhaps the size of ...