Leslie Philibert Poems

There are winds out there, they cause the windows and doors to move.
They have their own language.
This is not as easy as stealing from the blind.
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Howl for the dollar suckers, the shake amarni makers
Howl for the rolex souls with their calls to Frankfurt
Howl for the poets who quote in Italian who don`t know how to laugh
Howl for the ice children waiting for buses
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softnote saxophone
botex for the soul,
strained faces only
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And when the earth
Is ill with shale
Each day will blister
From a pitch-dark shadow
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The end of a white road;
pearlwort in a stone square,
cold and calm the wind.
The tanning of a whale; seals at dance
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Starless and cold the night; the sea foams;
flatly over the waves the changed north wind
tells a story. A stranger approaches a hut;
the fisherman`s daughter next to a stove;
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so as they took you down the concrete
corridor as if you were going to be
married you must have been scared and
full of rain stadelheim is too hard
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Lilith opened up her thighs
and showed the world her blackened eyes
her god oh god oh god

God banged his head against the tree
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not Spring. Not late but dark.
The hunter`s moon dissolves
as moths take to the woods, as sparks.
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The storm has been banging at doors all night;
with agro boots it kicks at windows and
breaks glass.Horseshoes slide over tarmac;
a council-flat-rat has broken his asbo,
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