Poem written on a specific date
It was sixteen it had only
started becoming. The water flowed
in to it freely. That was like me,
you said. It was like that. I got lucky.
Not to be explained but indulged. My head
on my hand. Eyes on the page somehow,
weirdly. Lean in and over.
Fall as hard as you can.
But for being twinned
with all manners of Logic.
Deepening your curtain, so
deep. Depth of drop, length of fall.
In-falling. The hands are only
ever a gateway. Parallelism it is,
it’s unfortunately a matter of surface.
I’m with you. Lended for good, i.e.
lost? Pull out the drawer and up
comes the morning.
The ground floor
of a corner flat. Whippets
Probably half-dead. Taking forever,
growling at me. I’m finding out. No one’s
in. Laser focus on the eyes. It’ll
just get better and it did. Which means. Walking
on the promenade, never finding it.
c l aps
c l aps
opening off
brickle shade off your
arms, what your
arms were holding. conviver.
me a conniver.
Everyone asking
Shettleston I can never
remember
Because I live in the church
Is the sky often
One of the churches
Like this and then you poked your
Head through a big cloth
Cloth as in vlog
I kind of broke with
Only so many
Sprayed unevenly but
Consistently, like a
Bad life. Our cat. Hard to
Get the good things
And to remember
Cycles of penalties, administered
Life.
Another poem written on a specific date
Sixteen of one, the other doesn’t.
Heft of scattering, a bit like mind volumes.
Imagine overthinking ‘mind’ without
definite article. Crossed the small road
On a remembered run. Always losing
the way. What am I doing and
who am I? Just two questions. You
can ask me more. An interesting thing about
Me is that you can ask me more. Didn’t
it close yesterday and if so what
happened today? We’re far from the
Origin and there is no origin: sad really.
If you jump you can make it. Taking is
or is not like hazarding. What would you
say?
Christopher Law is a writer living in Glasgow, Scotland. His critical writing has appeared in MAP magazine and Counterflows on Paper. His academic writing has appeared in journals including liquid blackness, Postmodern Culture and Modern Language Notes.
High Horse 