snapshots, peter edgell [primary phonics books txt] 📗

rise
A single point upon the arm –
A loneliness
Inside the quiet crevice
Of the soul


Pitsea Girl gets a burger

Cold night with leaves that flick like rats –
sudden, hungry in their dash –
and burger vans where shadows chime
and call like toms at mating time…

Cold night with bristled heaving wind –
convoluted, air of cash –
and boastful cries for one small sign
of local dogs at mating time…

Hot night is here for Pitsea Girl –
grazing back against some wall –
He ask her if his length is fine…
Who gives a fuck at mating time?

Cold night, cold night with rubber seal –
breaking back the birthing splash –
for racers driving to the rhyme
who could not stop at mating time…

Cold night for Pitsea Girl, in dreams –
Will no-one love her with the dawn?
Will no-one to her breast incline
except to kiss at mating time?


Pitsea Women

they comb the shops for
coded spells,
magic in the make-up aisles

like forward echoes
of their daughters,
they raise their hems,
drop their tops
and thin their bras to
pin the prints of nipples on
like medals

they talk in broody tones
aimed away from middle-age –
where weight comes creeping
round the waistline,
thin blue deltas
court the ankles,
sight betrays
and skin, when pinched,
takes so long to settle

they hunt in packs,
eyes caressing,
wet for younger men

Imprint

Publication Date: 07-17-2011

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