November 2017
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
spring draws to an end
the touch
her hands in mine
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
murmuring shells
when prophecy breaks down
into static
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a match struck
against the darkness —
dawn awakening
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
the poet
the poet dwells
at a safe distance
from words
the poet
pussyfoots around
the utter brink
the poet paces out
the sound of space
in-waiting
the poet
hot off the press
goes silent
the poet goes
dum-de-dum-de-dum
between breaths
the poet
pads out
the silences
the poet
lipsynchs his reflection
in tranquility
the poet
skirts the edges
of relevance
the poet
rattles off
his mortal coil
the poet at home
with the loneliness
of a long-distance runner
the poet
scratches the imagined limits
of his horizons
the poet
feathers
his nest egg
the poet
measures his success
in tossed panties
the poet loses
his daytime job
to the moon
the poet quickens
to the sound
of his own voice
the poet
strikes a pose
off its pedestal
the poet
plays out
the party line
the poet weeps
as sound and sense end
his abstinence
the poet
resurrects
a moment
the poet
loses himself
in his words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
evening sun
the cosmos carries a torch
for her footfall
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
moon in the clouds
my best poker face
lost in translation
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
after pissing
on the trumperor's parade
so much water under the bridge
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
her lavalava
colours Sale'aula's field —
the lingering heat