Chloe Meakin Poems
|2.||Diaries Of Pirate||6/12/2005|
|3.||Wrapped Around Your Finger||6/12/2005|
|5.||Die A Death||6/12/2005|
|6.||The Game Of The Citizen||6/12/2005|
|9.||The Makings Of Sally Bowles||6/12/2005|
|10.||The Passion Of Sally Bowles||6/12/2005|
|11.||The Burnt Down||6/12/2005|
|12.||Playing At Leaving||6/12/2005|
|15.||Boys Through The Water||6/12/2005|
|16.||Third Secret (A Sestina)||6/12/2005|
|18.||How I Came To Hate Bungalows||6/12/2005|
|19.||My Heart And The String||6/12/2005|
|20.||The Girl's Nobody||6/12/2005|
|21.||Lost Past Episode||6/12/2005|
|22.||General Trouble (For Samantha Bartle)||6/12/2005|
|25.||Two Weeks Before Your Wedding||6/12/2005|
Comments about Chloe Meakin
I wake in the night,
your words and your face and your voice.
Kissing the back of my hand with my mouth. Half a dream still.
Half. My lips and my tongue, and my teeth.
I squeeze my eyes with their lids. I am squeezed by this.
No breath. I burst, and I am disappointed. Just disappointed.
Forcefully. Deep in the night.
You are a piano playing somewhere.
And you are several instruments, playing the same tune, all at once. How to be you.
Kissing you. Carefully, one lip at a time.
The top, the bottom,
I did this once, to you.
The Game Of The Citizen
Two things moving, then people walking down the street.
One person shouting. Two things moving in the corner of my eye.
I’m a little bit in orbit, a little bit apart.
A little bit of me’s lobotomised.
Don’t you see? I’m barely me.
I’m a little bit cross-legged and serene.
Two people ignoring me, one calling out.