Andrew works in the kitchen He’s going
to get me out of here.

My boyfriend doesn’t believe me.

windows, fit together
at the joints except for
your face which is a mirror.

We are ten minutes late. They
are very sweet, hiding their
rage under pink sugar, a boiled

on a certain December day in 1981
the front page of The Sydney Tribune said that
Mrs. Smith had found a snake in her garden

Elmer Fudd 
by the fire 
bald head shining 

Each swallow scalds his throat, the lesions
on his larynx burn. There's nothing
to eat or drink but air. Skin

Boswell ran over to see if they lied;
Johnson declared it impossible, never
could that unbeliever whose work he decried

I have this large tattoo on my chest. It’s like a dream I have while I’m awake. I see it in the mirror as I shave and brush my teeth or when I change my shirt or make love. 

Even if you believe in Jesus there comes a moment when everything sinks. It is that moment when the fire collapses in the grate and the skinny sticks lie there smouldering, broken like the bones of the saints. 

It’s true
I wanted silence
longed for it but