Tuesday, March 02, 2010


I'm rooting through my old stuff to try and select the best for a volume later in the year. Here's a poem about Jane from 'Horridge'.

Ideal Homes

You keep the Subaru,
compact as yourself,
white as the knuckles on the wheel,
snouting south over the Corinth Canal,
through the bleached bones of Greece.
I look into your eyes,
beyond the reflection of that farm truck
with brake problems.

Three days ago in the Cyclades
a huge sun sank on cue
and a breeze carrying all the hot bubble
of the Peloponnese fanned my cheek,
and I thought yes this is the place,
but now I look into your face
I see a darker climate,
but I am disposed to live there,
with all its squalls.

From roughly the same time, in response to Rachel's request, a poem by Jane. Jane was published in quite a few places, then got scunnered. Don't know why.

Four Seasons in the Blue Room

Let me breathe your name
like a sigh,
on nights when the moon
hangs like a tiny ear,
and the wind whoops
above our bed,
and the only way to go is up
out of the window:
dance in air.

Here I have fingered treasures:
smelt your skin like good food,
kissed the rose coloured lips,
moved under your careful hands.

Everything began on a night like this.
Today was warm on my cheek
like a familiar breath saying
open, come,
and suddenly that night,
when I knew I'd touched something amazing,
seemed no further away
than that breath
and those hushed words.


Titus said...

Oh yes, I'd have this one.

Rachel Fox said...

I'd quite like to read a poem from her about you! Got any?

shug said...

certainly do. Wait till I get home.

Sorlil said...

Especially love the last four lines. All I remember of the Corinth Canal is that if you blink you miss it!

hope said...

Majority rules...this one is IN!

Hey Rachel, can I sit next to you when Mrs. Shug's work is read?

Eryl Shields said...

Crikey, I feel a huge temptation to dust off my copy of Existential Psychotherapy (Irvine D. Yalom) for some reason.

Thanks for the glass of wine last Wednesday, I will reciprocate next time.

Eryl Shields said...

Meant to say, the last three lines of the first verse are my favourite. Not that I don't really like all of it.

Eryl Shields said...

Sorry to stalk, but having now read Jane's poem I had to say: 'on nights when the moon hangs like a tiny ear' is fantastic!

Titus said...

Good Lord.
Lights/bushels etc.

Sorlil said...

I agree, the moon hangs like a tiny ear is a brilliant image!

Rachel Fox said...

And I almost wish I hadn't asked...it was just like being in bed there with both of you! I think I blushed. Especially when she touched your something amazing.

All of which I guess is a compliment...on the writing. I may never see you in the same way again (gone is the goat).


hope said...

Titus...your neighbors are more talented than mine. ;)

Titus said...

Have I told you about Tom Choate yet?

Leah said...

I've been back three times to read this! A perfect pairing. And allows me a little prurient interest, like looking into someone else's lighted window...