Category: dVerse
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Quadrille #70 – Untitled
Quadrille #70 – Untitled Memories from My Aunt’s Kitchen I recall laughter in the kitchen. Condensation on the windows. Net curtains. Yellowed. Frilly tie-backs. Ruffled aprons with long ties. Politics in the living room. Stinging scents — cigars, whiskey. Cheers, they said. We children, we were told to go away. And we did. …
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Quadrille #68
Perfectly Brief There’s a note stuck in the air, like you might do with a rose in water. A note — not bird song, not a metallic clapper or strings of cat gut, but a note, written with crescendo longing. It’s perfectly brief. One word: Wink. Quadrille #68 “Wink“
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The Rise and Fall of Yucking
The Rise and Fall of Yucking Bile He’s yucking in the grocery aisles, yucking leeks and yucking kale, and wailing o’Yuck’o at brussels sprouts and beans green as a May spring day, and in the meat aisle, yucking liver, yucking fish, and then he retches at the sight of toilet brushes Twiglet #97…
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dVerse Quadrille #65
The Carved Wooden Indian Still Stands Outside the Post Office I was right, This is a small town. A fishing port, mostly tourists. Lighthouse by the carpark, Metered parking nowadays. Souvenir shop selling shells, Dried twiggy seahorses, Glass balls. All imported. The ice cream shop’s Closed until May. Fish love A dead quiet harbour. …
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dVerse Quadrille #64
Quickly Around the Neighbourhood The old house on Hollow Road is being gutted like a mackerel. Dust fouling the air. How long can you hold your breath. These things never happen quickly. – There’s a shopping trolley in the creek, water up to here. It used to be fish. dVerse Quadrille #64 “Quick”…
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In-Form: Reiki
(Untitled) Bold, this iron hot, this devil you know. Choice is always an option. ℳ A Reiki form poem for In-Form Poetics and dVerse Does Adages . Reiki: 5.5.4.3 syllable count; no title; rhyme optional
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dVerse Quadrille #63
A Stoney-Face Sky Summer’s end burns exhausted, as if falling faint from effort. The sky is stoney-faced, torn and tense and shining, and trickling jigsaw shapes against the windowpane. Earth chews its bottom lip, nervous, life’s slowing to a static stride. Winter watches in the distance. for dVerse Quadrille #63 44 words, excluding the…
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dVerse Quadrille #61
Puzzles The neighbour has a white rabbit, and a terrier that yaps all day long (at that rabbit) — and there’s an empty vase set on the windowsill, shaped like an over-ripe woman (desirous of sex). It’s like a puzzle, that’s missing a few vital pieces. for dVerse Quadrille #61 and Punctuation & Enjambment
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dVerse Rooms
Grandpa was autumn. That’s how I saw him. In his brown trousers and rusty-red shirt and a folded paper hat on his head that looked like an origami boat, and he’d stand there in his basement workshop sawing up some piece of driftwood, sawdust flying about like a blizzard. A lightbulb hung from a cord…
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dVerse Quadrille #60
The Art of Scratching I’m an itcher, perfected as a child. Mum made me a coat from Dad’s old peacoat – worn during the war, only war worth fighting (he said), claimed every shot since was political mischief. Hated that coat. Scratched my neck raw. Like rope burn. dVerse Quadrille #60
It's Still Life 