The heart favours

The heart favours
A flat landscape
High up on the plain

The edges are blurred
Cloudy, like cotton wool

And in the centre
Water from someone’s eyes
In the water
A memory
You have not yet collected

And what the heart favours
Appears later in a dream

At first you will see no-one
Night after night
This new landscape is without people

Then out of the blue
You ask a question
And a dream friend appears
With a mouth full of sunflowers

We’re friends

We’re friends
We stick
For a while

Like the whole world
The whole host
We’re friends

How long
Is friendship
How long
Is a stick
In a pool

Like the whole world
And it’s broken holy ghost
We’re friends

Some things
Groups us together
But we break
Easily apart
You cannot
Blame the weather
But the imperfect heart

And the whole world
In its entirety
The whole world
Of humanity
Sticks together

Last forever
Twice as long
Just like
Last year’s song

Even having
Enough to food eat
Houses to live in
Shoes on or feet
Are we grateful?
Or are we working?
Just to stay afloat
The whole
Of our worlds
Is stirred
Like milk into coffee
And we’re friends

Time stops

Time stops
When you want it to
Like a porcelain bull
Broken into pieces

Time stops
When you want it to stop
Sinking into the lake of bitumen
Like a steam engine

12 o’clock
Is a number
That floats backwards
Into the trees

It is a number
That sits on top
Of a shadow

Time stops
Like it was made to
Nothing ever fits
Into equal arts
Makes its own time

Like crossbow bolts

Like crossbow bolts
In the hearts
of the dead and dying
That only the power of God
Can save

Small, un-noticed they pierce you
With little squeaky voices
You bleed from their pin-pricks
A million times a day

Then there is the big one
Cast in heavy iron
As big and as heavy as a crucifix
It pieces your heart
And it spits angrily into your blood

Some people nurse vultures

Some people nurse vultures
Like children
Dedicated to carrion
To dissolving bones in acid

They pray for hours in the night
Amongst the mountains
They are dedicated to the dead eyes
They swirl about the sky

Some people nurse vultures
And allow them a safe haven
Sitting on the cooking stove in their kitchens
Like wild hungry witch doctors

They keep old daguerreotypes
Of vulture family members
They dream of flying forever
Over the same mountaintops