"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Beneath cloudy, frigid skies outcrops of fertilised laughter glare knowingly from sneering seas; their steady retreat stained by the crooked smile of those who know the joke, has gone too far. We trace lines in the filth, dowsing for patterns in droppings; faces contorted to manic snarls. Monochromatic waves ripple …
As chimney stacks spew forth our tainted offerings of industrial excrement, dilapidated ventilators strain to suck poison from the saturated veins of concrete obelisks; their glass facades opaque to the inevitability of our subsidence. Inside these effigies of excess numbered commodities sift spreadsheets like Sisyphus, smiles met with nodding …
Basking in the tainted gloss of west coast rays, these once frigid waters overflow with sustenance, enticing anchovies to cavort along the coastlines; their corporeal writhing a carnal call to hungry, ancient giants. Upstream, waves of heat weave blobs of warmth into toxic bouquets, their ghastly aromas leeching beneath …
In swathes of fractured colours you wheel across unbroken skies, a kaleidoscope of memory drifting between seasons; patterns shifting sensitively to the subtleties of scale. Captured in synthetic mist nests, we sift your shifting patterns from the shimmering rains; avian constellations that have become littered with lapses in ecological …
Between synthetic, parallel lines drawn across artificially constructed maps, the clouds begin to form. Climbing upwards like giant anvils of cotton candy, a trick of the scattering light projecting apparitions across the skies. Oscillating between imagined landforms, these vessels of rain and ice drift tirelessly across tranquil seas and …
Swaying steadily in kaleidoscopic fields, spectral fans reflect the turquoise light; their mottled aura straining spectra as warming oceans bleach branches and lighten latticework. Parasitic hues scar the surface, lacerating living skeletons with vibrant, polished purples; their corrupting shadows smeared across the ferns, as copper-coloured paint leaches from beneath a …
Submerged beneath sediments of ancient ash and bone, the variety of absence suggests the magnitude of loss; high-precision ageing unearthing fountains that loom above the scene of the crime. Living mountains that smother the air and wilfully suck the blame from prying, pointing fingers. Buried deep in the records …
Beneath dusted peaks of mountain dew A dense and rigid backcloth skulks, Worn down and compacted with Fractured decades of aged powder; Trodden into rocky outcrops To lie barrenly against This frozen, ancient soil. Subtle shifts of these forgotten rocks Ripple across subterranean sediments, Dislodging once-stable foundations That now cascade …
Beneath shadows Of Spring Mountains The rain dove arcs Across a barren sky, Its trembling shadow Rolling listlessly Above abandoned towns Of silver and gold, Whose former occupants Drift aimlessly, Tracing invisible contrails With covetous, translucent fingertips. Sinking in these sandy seas The rain dove plummets Beneath the waves; …
Choking on the excessive vapours Of our abandoned debauchery Your stunted shoots flail awkwardly In artificial chambers of soil and sedge. Your weathered hands Fly too close to the sun, Goaded by an elevated fixation That cannot support the Consequence of its ambition. Meanwhile, beneath a moistened Carpet of shrunken …