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marianne.l.daniels@hotmail.com

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Repeat to Fade

by Marianne Daniels

Splendered, walking half in sleep,
and with red glasses cupping teeth,
I am a stranger -
photographed like a chimney mooring it's house with poison
steaming it's frames and running the charcoal down my spine.
 
These are my lines.
 
No fashion on a sleeve - I have worn it with plague,
smothering mad, and falling like a crippled ballerina's smile.
 
I ...

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Wednesday 30th December 2009 5:53 pm

WOLOP.dec

Lachrymose Nesting

by Marianne Daniels

I am an amputee, a vortex. A lampshade frayed
like the hems of the eunuch soldiers, the powdered women
who took war to work and made a holiday of men.
 
Retund rouge mistakes? Perhaps not. No. No I am not one of them.
 
But my limbs ache with stretching
and I sometimes wish to be a tail, a thick wardrobe
to curl his spine up into mine; a soft grey to douse
th...

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Thursday 24th December 2009 2:32 am

WOLOP.dec

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