On Looking at a Picture of Elizabeth Taylor
by Stephen Kelly

“Oh to be enamoured”

I imagine myself saying in conversation on a cold day while on the bus again!
and my visible
breath carries
my words away where
twenty minutes later they,
as a slight chiffon of wind,
blow the hat off an old man.

ding dong
 a phrase I’ve been trying to make my own
for days is it wrong to say that these are
salad days? My blood is warm I assume
                    I’m not that well acquainted (thank something)
                          

to bathe in milk and look fantastic in a real life motion picture not a flick
not a blockbuster looking like it doesn’t matter hence
‘cause this is you forever though you don’t know it at the time

 and you can have as much work
 as you want until your face is like a prozacked mannequin 
               which scowls at me 
 in the lingerie section of a ten year old 
 vision I’m not sure I really have.

But O! To be enamoured!

The thoughts of a million hopeless poets
who should meet and gangbang, every one of the million,
breath smoke and switch to painting.

from Sad Little Zoo by Nessa Darcy

 

 

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