Lorcan Black Poems

Somewhere above an intercom crackles and buzzes-
the voice of God?

And these other bodies down here-
...

There are four walls, a window, an exit.

And that thing trapped inside

could be an animal.


...

What has it come to that a town of mouths
should fall open upon my return?

Each familiar face that greets me
...

I.

How many White Nights have you trawled
the banks of the Neva, electrified as a nervous wire
...

I am a small god of transformations,
the subterfuge of a nymph that contorts
at will into a laburnum,
the extravagance of its frills, my speciality.
...