Liturgy of the Hours
Ears incline toward forgetful
The body inclines to memorialise
Alarm peal mummering
abscess in retreat
Arise remind, arise remember, arise
repaper the cracks
in the veneer
of my hand painted mother
Layers lair
Thinner, thinner
Due care, to not fall
for the paper cut debris of
the umbilicus aeternalis
The cracks she ‘ppears through
all hallowed
objects of transition
wherein we sup tae
mull over samples
Patterns to emboss for safekeeping
onto the skin of the next generation...
Daily
I listen to life, frantic
looking for me, afraid
that I have left it. Refusing
to leave, or to let me
The way out—a not yet
Praying, that the dog, will not betray
where I have us, folded
in a crevasse, between silences, tired
of dialogue. Stillness
my only own
Tasting sounds
searching and shuttering
exits
It is distressed
I always come back
It hates me for that...
Steak Tartare
an exercise in restraint from a bare-handed endeavour
Moves her, from monolith, through devouring mother
to swoon like a Koons on the roof of the Met
endorphins disturbing brutalism at its core
It is by the grace of God that she uses a fork
Prey now
behind his prawn cocktail watching
her, single handedly googling pejorative
always with the googling
It means that you, are an arse for using it
Yes. This
is the woman he will divorce
For now, propose
one knee, in the garden
she'll like that
Give her the makings of poetry....
Siobhan Potter works as a verbal artist, and body psychotherapist in Ireland. Her practice, centred in relationship, explores the capacity of poetic form to midwife experience. Siobhan has poems published in both oral and print form, and she exhibits occasionally in relation and participatory ways.
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