POETRYTHURSDAY±11

Hüm (noun)
by Jen Hadfield

(For Bo)

Twilight, gloaming;
to walk blind
against the wind;

to be abject; lick snot
and rain from the top lip
like a sick calf.

To be blinded by rain
from the north.

To be blinded
by westerly rain.

To walk uphill
into a tarry peatcut
and bluster a deal
with the Trowes.

To cross the bull's field
in the dark.

To pass in the dark
a gate of hollow bars
inside which the wind is broaling.

To pass in the dark
a byre like a rotten walnut.

To not know the gate
till you run up against it.

This will be the last poetry Thursday for now. I never really liked it as much as I thought I would, but I will continue to post poetry because you know...some of it is actually pretty good!

I'MYOURWOMBAT

Today has been a funny day.

Last night I revisited some old habits & ended up the proud owner of this lovely green jumper.

I try not to make a habit of stealing other peoples clothes - anymore - but someone stole my rather lovely oversized t-shirt first so to hell with it.

Why won't it stop raining?

I'm in love with this nail varnish which I borrowed from Toby's little sister in NY. Now in search of my own version, any suggestions?

Me & Jesus walked home & were armed with so many plans:

Unfortunately though my Mother made off with both our pairs of car keys

So we made a rather lovely pistachio cake instead & I caught up on all your comments

Sorry for the disjointedness. I'm still on about GMT -3 rather than -5, so I'm getting there but I have heavy thoughts & Ida Maria on repeat so who knows what could happen.

Once photos are developed I will elaborate more on Paris & clothes (more importantly) but Camp America was a bit of a let down even though I picked up some lovely new friends I don't think I'll be repeating it.

Oh & I'm very happy with my first A Level after 2 years being an A* in Photography. I also gained 2 more B grade AS's from Physics (an improvement on last years D) and English Lit & I got a C in Maths - hells yes. Yes my education is fucked up & my AS count now stands at 7, I don't know what's wrong with me.

How did your summer/results go?

BACK IN BRISTOL

Two cities conquered.
Love will be my grave.
I started writing again.
He always used to say I should.

I can't wait to catch up with you all.

95% GO UNREPORTED::6.5% RESULT IN PROSECUTION

POETRYTHURSDAY±10

The Life of Fiction
by Thomas Lynch

Everything must, of course, advance the cause
of atmosphere or character or narrative:
the walk up the coast road, the sudden rain,
the stone shed at the sea's edge to shelter in,
the two of them waiting out the weather,
pressed into the corner, alone at last.
This is an old movie. It's Hollywood.
Each gets to tell the other everything –
old dreams and longings, slow regrets, how things
happen as they are supposed to happen,
or so they will console each other.
Of course, the usual embraces. They smile and weep.
They touch each others' faces wordlessly
then step out into the eventual sun,
each knowing what the other wanted known.
Or here's another possibility:
It doesn't rain. Or when it does,
a helpful pilgrim happens by and shouts,
"Hop in, you'll be perished, I'll get you home!"
And they get back safely, dry and comforted,
grateful for their dispensations. Life goes on.
The sea and the weather keep coming and going.

Good luck to everyone getting results today!

ASHORTINTRODUCTIONTOMYOBSESSIONWITHSHORTS

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