dearrob

see
i knew you look-peered
                             like you do,

hoping to catch me out so you can
                            scratch.me.out and shoutabout~doubt

so fullawords and yet                                              not even 1
                                                                                       will do
                                                                                       foryou

here are some ways i love you :                                 shhh

do you hear scurrying? worryflurries? 
                                                                  [never to mind, where were we?]

ah yes.

there are no easbys in the chambers biographical dictionary and the dog is going mad
eating its own leg
because it misses you so fucking much
so i shout at it and                  feelbetter

and it smells~ ; so
i know all the time
that it misses you

i am sorry that there was not enough petrol in THECAR

                                                                                    strangely, a red admiral
                                                                                    skimmed the slick-slope
                                                                                    squelch-grass pitches;
                                                                                    sideways and papery.
                                                                                   

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~ by Beeskiffle on February 1, 2008.

4 Responses to “dearrob”

  1. Damn.
    The breakdown of a relationship can really twist us into something we otherwise are not; the disjointedness of this is more disturbing than your ususal work because there is a tinge of malice to it, although I can’t tell if it’s emitting from imitation of the addressee or the narrator herself, e.g.
    “i am sorry that there was not enough petrol in THECAR”.
    The change in pace I found distressing too (these words, disturbing and distressing are not intended as criticism, more as admiration of skill), like in the final block when it seems like words spilling out of the mouth in a torrent, to me, it seemed like a sideways step into a new subject, like avoidance, like a calming method, like a demonstration of the mind’s tendency to unhinge itself with a screech. Maybe, though, it’s just gratitiude at the fact that the world still contains some beauty, the kind that can be appreciated at a distance.

    I like this but it’s a bit upsetting, reminiscent of parental divorce and the doorstep shouts pounding down the concrete council-flat stairs.
    Hope that’s okay.

    “eating it’s own leg” (its)

  2. The glimpse of freshness at the end, the turning in to the true self and the thankfulness we feel for that, from what went before. Riddle me squeak, but I hope you know what I mean.

  3. I really like the way you’ve used the spacing to drive the rhythm of this piece and the glimpsed butterfly at the end is wonderful and hopeful

  4. I love the way that you steeetch language…so different than I do and still so compelling…well done.

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