Trouble in Hope Springs In my own defence pro se,let me say it’s not a closed case of cooking the books. Mining for brain fodder on the lunatic fringeis not for the squeamish or tone deaf. Today I’m picking Daffodils;watching them litter grief stricken pages with glee. Tomorrow, I’ll conjure screedsof smoke & shadows toContinue reading “Trouble in Hope Springs”
Tag Archives: #poets
Carpark Monologue
I’m beginning to relate tothe liquid pulse of Faure’s tempo: the persistent hum of words thatthreaten to gate crash the showat any minute with their usedcar salesman’s pitch and patter. I thought of cracking openthe promising Tempranillo fromLogrono and watching that JimJarmusch movie again with the Brieand pâte from last nights fiasco, untilI remembered IContinue reading “Carpark Monologue”
Classroom Windows
Classroom Windows I can’t remember it word for word.Not from preface to epilogue and allpoints in between, but I know you would have smiled or maybecried; torn out the page andpinned it to your cluttered dresser. That poem from your last yearbookwith the glossy yellow cover that younever held in your celestial hands. How IContinue reading “Classroom Windows”
Postcard to Rachmaninoff
Postcard to Rachmaninoff Her arpeggios are up tothe task, precocious in theircarefully weighted precision as she segues into theswelling ache of the largowith it’s ambiguity of meter. It’s dissonance panningacross her lobes like 70’sprog rock in hi fidelitygrinning from ear to ear. She teases the grand finalelike a well schooled vixenwho’s mastered the part. SunkenContinue reading “Postcard to Rachmaninoff”
At Your Wishing Well
At Your Wishing Well All inside this roomrecedes into the blueof minuscule hours. Scriabin’s arabesqueshave called it a night;slipped away to ponder rumours of mintedchocolate—notes ofripe vanilla that speakin warm silken tones. Would it be too much towish this second linger;slowly turn to stone. ©️Orion Foote, 2022
Trash Talk at the Presser
Trash Talk at the Presser Y’all have to wonder abouttheir affectations of slam champand how they get to dishout the straps these days.It’s enough to make me want todig out my old highlight reels. The way he enters the ringall bug eyed with chest heaving,juiced up to the max with postmodernist metaphors; his treetrunk armsContinue reading “Trash Talk at the Presser”
Post Match Analysis
Post Match Analysis If you really want to know,ask a dying person she saidsotto voce, while teeming dross bucketed from an embarrassed skyoutside my kitchen window.Sweeping diagonally, deliberatelyas if to make a point;cut through all the crap. While old Hughie pontificatedon the outcome of too manyturn-overs—chances gone begging;no bottle at the breakdown ofplay & let’sContinue reading “Post Match Analysis”
Foul Papers
Foul Papers At times, splinters of lightmight penetrate the darkroom.Sweeping like liquid; churning ontheir solemn trajectory tomingle alongside my gnashingcells like silent hues of algae. Sun-dried and parched beneaththe intrepid blaze of the sun,becoming finely sated like alluvialdust clinging together in bolsters.Only to return under the deepshroud of night, to lay inert withdrizzled shards andContinue reading “Foul Papers”
Crepuscular
Crepuscular Tonight, there will be noreiterating of fictions oranything of the sort. No notes of nostalgia hintingat a seismic shift to coolerclimes elsewhere. It’s a drizzly dusk that entersthe frame at this hourwith it’s sly grating cadence. Tonight, there will be nomoping nostalgia or anyneo-expressionist motifs. Only the damp, pricklyneedling of showers on thedriveway &Continue reading “Crepuscular”
Indicators
Indicators I pass the secondsscanning every letterthat you arrange withsuch inevitability—suchprecise methodical order. I watch them dissipate towards the hollowspaces that gather lightof foot between us. It’s as if you can’t bearthe thought of them existingonly for and of themselves,as I brace myselffor the oncoming season;for your own too familiarbrand of tiresome weather. ©️Orion Foote,Continue reading “Indicators”
Visions of Orion Poetry 