Anatomy of a Fork

I loved my great Aunt Rosie’s forks. Age showed on them in the same way it did on the elderly. They were rickety at the top, where the forked bit met the handle, and a little rusty too. But they were very smooth, worn down almost. To the touch they felt much like an infant’s …

Die Selbst

After Bayer’s ‘Selbstportrat’ (1932)   I am the speckles under your arm the cartoon steak you flop from your fingers Fingers, fat, fat, fingers of the men who will cut through you, slice you open and leave you bare   A marble slab is just as well as A stainless steel stretcher Stretching mouths open …

Monochrome

I will listen on a loop to your dreams spiralling off grooves carved out of black they used to come in one colour once really, quite a long while back now they are marble, or pink, or green as pines wine bottles your hair when you asked me to bleach it for you anticipating a …