In The Old Plot Today

Nothing new in the old plot today:

No warmth, no awe, no sprouts;

Nothing at all in

The dawn-gold orchard,

The ladder-high skies,

The dumb-today rock.

 “Nothing will of nothing come…”

Is the whisper in my ear.

Nothing, indeed, from the

Dumb-today rock, the

Quiet, silver peaches of the moon.

Some days my elusive muse

Is a moody bitch-goddess vampire.

Sometimes I just don’t care.


The Smiles


The smiles were

Always pretty

And she said

“You are the son of a witch,

Brother to a vampire:

It’s no wonder you are crazy!”


The candles were

Soon gone

And she said

“I must have smoke,

I must use gold:

It’s no wonder you are crazy!”


Remaining days were


We danced

In a blaze of glory,

Kept the faith.

There’s a marvellous magic

to being crazy!