On Diamond Hill
 
I didn’t
think of you once
as I climbed
 
past stunted willows
straggles of gorse

Matter cannot be created and it cannot be destroyed.
I think of this as I pour the almost white ash from
the green plastic container that came in the post
into the vibrant red metal urn I have ready.

just as the night sky shifts
beyond the minds

of the animals outside

the ceilings
we are pressed beneath change

in aspect & colour

Notes from nature on how to survive this:
 
1. Learn crypsis and mimesis be a gecko or a mossy frog
 
2. Method actors sway like dead-leaf mantises on branches

We tore it all down
just to watch it burn,
standing in that alley
of forgotten refuse.
 

Check the cavities in you where hurt goes,
exactly the right shape to house an insult
like a power tool snug and clipped in its case.

I woke to workers with blades
along the verge, yellow-jacketed
to signify contracted rights

In the beginning of the end she bit the thing she wasn’t meant to bite.
Apple stuck in her throat, one bite taken, then swallowed whole.

To my Ovaries

My cahoonas. My muscular daisies.
Potent white olives. You make me sick.