Poems by Jen Crawford
at home it was always at night, never in the morning. while she was drifting a
man in a blue swandri came along and stopped by the toilet. he unzipped his zip.
the cave opened up into sunlight — and it was full of butterflies, the size of hands,
he moved forward, bringing her chest in to her knees, disturbing the torsoes,
mobile silence. everything was shining, it was just a bath, there was nothing
stupid about it. the cliffs were sheets of hanging stuff, isinglass crisped into
land forms. “that’s embarrassing,” he said, and tucked himself in. now there
would be no problem fitting her in with the dentist. kiwis cried out in the bush
and cold came up through her wet feet. she exchanged the shoes for a pair
of white crocs, the first of the thirty pairs. it was over very quickly. the rowboats
carried on around the hot, shallow seas. there had been nowhere in her mouth
for the tartar to collect.
we were in the rowboats, making our way around the hot, shallow seas. I had
been looking for a while for a dentist near the shore, and eventually found one,
advertised as offering discretion, a lack of odour, accommodation for
anxieties. debarkation was early, and the dog suffered. up in the hills birds
cried out — weak, weak. I stepped up off the platform onto the flight of stone
stairs. the surgery was glass on four sides, but the dental light blotted out
everything. while we talked an explosion had happened behind me, to the right
of my head, the cloud forming the shape of a lightbulb, so he said kindly.
"I hope no one was hurt." so he said kindly. but I couldn't define the moment
the light happened. there had been no indication at all.
The Black Valley
structure of a quand structure of defertile? hot tent, orange light
and dog your flavoured spittle
real dog as conjuror-of a train real dog arms around (, night, endigo
inside the train the toothsome alarum oh! that is an
alert passenger. thank you. video on the rooms of rest. calm report. footage of
some severed limbs. a closeup of the caries/who is that man? with the heavy bag.
what is inside the bag. why does he walk away? (. it’s a
wedding in the bag inside the wedding glass wall behind the glass sea
a reward (:enformation
ondine in place with dog the smell of your spittle, filling the hot ear. cloze passage.
after the reception, the body. en
cephalitic. nurses argue cat’s cradle is the structure of the argument.
undercatatonia the slippery salmon. placed by the
Power of Castle legislate the turn of the body against heat, protocol.
RN to OT: when the appointment for the toenails?
this isn’t covered. THIS isn’t COVERED. t wards problem
who takes you in the dog/fat carriage/is only a leaking consideration. the bag is
carried out of sight. who is this man leaking forward the (wedding (carriage
blowing way from
skeletons of dinosaurs oh bay after bay
to formerly the houses of his aunts, searching
ondinewhile the train and its slipping within the dog’s heat, claws to cheek, am
wished out of breath, and out it goes of its strings and rails wildly across the pier to
questing whether a river rears up over the wagon?
whether a belle is really needed in a bassinette?
(and did you see she asked
pH of the symptom of reportage
garden of anemones, sleep wards
with the precise repetitions of flowers on the sill
the same chart same bearing on the press-button
a locking, up,
doors frozen, up and down the panicky carriage
dear blinded dog, exquisite in attention
to swollen hands (smash glass
& under rubber lip
in the dog’s arms a tongue’s ocean
apiece with the cracking of seals
jelly-devellumy rednesses coming now to represent
THE BLACK VALLEY
the bearded end of skin
the women report: the bag has detonated. worms alive. this is our final assignment.
the women report without pressing the button. open our mouths to the swim. open our
mouths to the dog swim. whitely in the caries.
H hollers the trouble to a far seabed. walks coasts
arrives in sand. builds a house
with aunts’ bones. can’t remember the quisling.
skeletons of the dinos fix hope up and cannot be touched)
but the wind cares for them.
and for his skin the shelter of the skin of his aunts
is a child’s skin. so that he’d have a child
glassine, sugar spun for the loving, all again
anothing made of sugar,
anothing could in the wind (sweetly
spinning along the line of molten
as in walking
as in walking into the corner of a landed form