sat with Angeline last night
on the lost ship called my 'bed'
the linen strangled our legs and shores; alike
& pillows became cradles for heads and life-jackets
she came to whip my arse
a rescue remedy, she called it
told me to get a grip, serious
issues of life plague my temprement
we: don't do pity parties any more
my muse and me, and 'others' who want to come by
to see - my heart is beating in directions anew
freshly charged made amends
with the rest of my body
dipped in sugarless candy and forgotten fucks
save our souls
save our souls
if I was a catholic I'd ask the priest for confession
just to add up the numbers on this imaginary rosary
not that me and Angeline don't pray
faith stands in the middle of the road
chirps out with the magpies and swallows
that crash under flailing ribs
wash the shoreline of my belly
and liver, salted on the rise of my hips
I prayed to the light
and to the greater sky
mother of the earth guided me
and the father of my night and day
called through the clouds
- Angeline whistled old soul songs in my ear
when she visits
she sways in ghostly
like the Marie Celeste
drifts inside dreams
she covers my body
with the duvet
hushes me to sleep
she is a sonambulistic muse that creeps
under your skin, keeps alive your heart
if you let her
I used to smoke
I used to drink
I used to smoke & drink
and dance the hoochie coo!
Honorable mention
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