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Thursday, November 6, 2008

THE GREEN INTEGER REVIEW Nos. 11-16 (Christopher Barnes)


Christopher Barnes

Praftfalls of a Lover

He clots under my snuggling, squirms,
False light on dazed feet.

He’s a hobby-horse to twitter
Wagnerian bravura
With an at-a-loss voice
In a beer garden shut off into details
By slogan-crusted screens;
Conceit fills the bill
Of the illusionist.

Instead, a rodent-rash beard chafes
In the vacancy of a thunder-clap gallery.



Prick-kicking


Trotting out in postures (oh love!)
We were reptiles before the storm.
In stop-gaps our clucks mood-fluxed.
(Oh hate!) We’re still antipodes
To unserviceable hogwash.

With tight outness of front,
Stupefying apple pie order,
You ringleadered hissing counterplots,
The breath of revenge.

Heart-grates, head-gnaws,
Cramps in the throat.
“Throttle him!”



Prison Song


After making love
To me
Write luffing notes
To your wife,
Hum, caged bird.

Rephrasing lyrics
Tune evaporates
In its own heat
Touchless as wind.

Lost now
Tinkling murk for clues
A trumpet-eared Miles Davis
Of the sky.

Time’s insomnia,
Rugged cell.
Beat its declaration
Loosing moments,
Oxygen.


____
Copyright ©2008 by Christopher Barnes

Christopher Barnes is a British poet, born in Scotland, who in 1998 won a Northern Arts writers award. He has published extensively, including the publication of a book, Lovebites, and has poems recorded by the South Bank Centre in London. Each year he participates in Proudwords lesbian and gay festival. In 2003 he read at the Edinburgh Festival as a Per Verse poet.

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