We Have Done Our Best to Break Mother

 

M A T T    D U G G A N

 

Watching the rain on a slant
like a cat -staring through glass
awaiting that moment of release;

where we grew into our chains
– & each one chronicled
the breakdown in four parts;

If we held shadows far from us
in our minds curled up
like children we once were.

When spiked trees danced
threw ghosts into burial clouds –
the wind inside uncertain skies
became a sculptor of our hell & fantasy.

We have done are best to break mother
filled her sea with blood & oils
scattered the residue of plastic containers
along her shoreline in triplets & two’s.

 


 

HOUSE ARREST

Finding myself quarantined dividing energy between bouts of twitching legs feverish sweats of Anxomnia. I dream of feeling the sun taking a breath of our first incubated summer. What it must feel like to smell spring? bright flowers the open bloom. Expectations are now of a high birth rate. Men dressed in pyjamas wear surgical masks & glue toilet tissue to both hands – exhausting their frantic play stations. Incarcerated with one million home comforts – television repeats of old sit-coms; we see only a shortage in toilet rolls but not contraceptives. We twiddle our fingers play with our foreskins; wait for a cure to our anxiogenic future.

 

 


 

GRASS & SAND

 

They hide in gun boots & at mountain retreats
deniers of gas chambers seekers of spears
through repetitive war we didn’t see four horses
tied to the devil’s red knee cap;
glossed over by a world without any ears.
Cracks in the smashed glass
amended spectacle frames
readers who deliberately couldn’t see;
Holy warrior harbinger of hate
destroyer of artefact and true faith;
making large cracks in grass & sand
broken arm of division
widens the shrinking mouth
as they are boarding up the synagogues again.

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.