Ageing Gothic Mother

A set of poems cataloguing the adventures of a woman 

Ageing Gothic Mother 1,2 & 3

These are for your daughter then? It was too late My knickerbockers and I had left the building

Ageing Gothic Mother 4

And there's me Queen of the do-it-yourself brunettes White roots glowing Standing in the hallway

Applying myself 2

I'm pretty sure I saw the girl who got the job Her smile as she passed me on the stairs As wide as an automatic door How did I feel about the web?...
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Back View

I catch your jacket from behind at the edge of the sharp corn Swaying I could watch you for ever not looking for me

Catching some air

It was the plaques you see All along the pier You didn’t like the ones about the dead Talk about mood turner

Christmas Address

A is for Alex in Moscow – real name Oleg who gave me his number in case I got lost Amy - babysitter from when you were little and we were all still together B is for

Christmas Card

I fill up sulkily All kind of spoiling Itching Glaring at the numbers flying past Daring it to overfill yet knowing it can't coz there's a mechanism I get ready to pay at last Get ready to ruin somebody's day There's only one lady in the kiosk It's her Tannoy woman

Clan

You sit there The air cracks You listen to me I'm someone else Hiding under your wide glance I watch your hair And breathe you in Like a fire eater

Clock

The lines fill the sheet Like your legs As the flimsy dividing curtain flutters Like your eyelids

Damsel

I’m distressed By the way you’re dressed
Cherry

Dissertation notes – Supervision 1

You tell me about blue whales And how their hearts Are as big as a small car

Fairy Tale

My cooker timer has broken My kettle doesn’t whistle suddenly Yesterday someone on TV said Cathie And two Caths rang me at the same time All the bells in the world have stopped ringing

Fruit of the room

Back on the pier the automaton repair man fixes our expressions lost in the photo booth

Gate Crush

My longed for leaver From lover pool

Good to go

It’s an open office discussion What would you do if you knew you were going to die?

Home again naturally

I fell up the steps like the woman with the pram on the stairs in that film with the eye except that was down wasn't it Battleslipping like a right potemkin

How not to eat in public

It’s funny how you get a rhythm by accident sometimes. With words. How they work sometimes. I was sitting on a crowded train, on my way to London...

Intellectual Property

This is not a poem but a flourish This is not a love song but a kiss off More Playstation than placation

Keep Wales Tidy

While snow-topped mountains blazed

Lasso

I never love you so much as when you turn in that last minute

Lunchtime leftovers

Tesco Value carrot stick parcels Sit in my fridge like judgemental delicate hearts

Nightwatchmen

We vibrate past them Imagine collecting protection money from the fish Giggling in the rigging Dancing about on the spit
Cherry

Northern District and Circle

I wonder if salmon taste whisky A dead sheep melts into the sand

One for the road

Damsel I’m distressed By the way you’re dressed

Oyster Catcher

I am cast Like an aspersion Or a spell Like a first stone

Pataphysical Autobiography

You saw me again Got one of those faces like a runway wife like a best friend like a spiral fairy smoke queen an out of control evil twin set down down town double trouble map I'm everywhere me

Pataphysical Autobiography 2

You thought you saw me Like Keats saw that woman in Vauxhall Glanced by chance at a distance You forgot to mention how good my gloves looked Or how my eyes reminded you of sapphires You couldn't even love me when it wasn't me

Plane Spotting

I saw him Like Keats saw that woman in Vauxhall Pale as a jet plane Children crying Your father's looking at clouds she said not looking Called away before I could catch his dark dark river eyes Swaying slightly as he walked

Self-raising flower

like a bun or early sun

Waterloo

My bag so full Of knickers and toothpaste and the Minirolls I’ve been offering since Halesworth
Cherry

Weather report

I’m in the skate park Cloud obscurity nine out of ten I dream about huge wasps leaving toffee I eat one of the stings Like a brazil nut
Cherry

Weather Report 2

Going too high on the swings When there’s no reply

You can get pills for that

The route seemed so simple; Line by line she wrote it down. No.2, Pigalle to Porte Dauphin, get off at Charles de Gaulle Ecole, No.6 from Charles de...

Weather Report

It was warm for November, but there was wind, which caught us every time we started uphill or pulled ourselves over another stile, or tripped on a...