The Ninth Day of Christmas

Eight Maids-a-Milking Lord knows what happened whenhe double-clicked on ‘Ornamental Milkmaids.’He swears he only ordered one. On Monday, eight cows arrived. They clattered down the ramp and he signed for them ( I was out at the time) then herded...

The Eighth Day of Chrismas

ResolutionHungover in the cow-fresh air, they leave their after-party friends to stuffing frosty cars with leftovers and sleeping children. She wishesthat they had a dog, or tartan travel rugs. The pub is mulled and mistletoed,ashine with polished warming pans...

The Seventh Day of Christmas

In Cold DimensionsI study the lives on a leaf: the little sleepers, numb nudgers in cold dimensions A strange way to see.A stranger’s way. Her garden is an exhibitionwith lit rooms, masterpieces,and her rooms are parterres;the shape and size of their...

The Sixth Day of Christmas

Living YuleI was there, when men squatted on haunches 
to chip flint and weave webs of belief
 from seasons and circles of death and growth.
The stink of boar-grease stiffening my braid
and blue whorls whispering under my skin 
offered hope that darkness could end.I...

The Fifth Day of Christmas

Bad QuartoIt seems my Folio’s out of jointwith the version that you scribbled downwhile sub-plots drew the spot from kingsand courtiers waltzed on from the wingsor were bottled off by groundlings.My favourite scene? The woodland spreewhen, sappily, I carved your...

The Fourth Day of Christmas

Another Christmas   Last Sunday before Christmas. Blue sky, transparent afternoon moon. Plasma screens are flying off the shelves of Woolworths. On the hill, brown smoke billows from the hospital incinerator; body parts, foetal matter.   Dan Wyke28...