#monique ewen

[little-mumbles-blog]

River-rat Princesses

Hearts caught in barnacles And dirty lace, These little girls Were river-rat princesses. With hair in long plaits That dangled to the sea, They hung fenders from the boat, Scratching on the wharf As the storm charged, Knocking the needles Off the weather gauges. Their little hands trembled Deep down in the riverbeds, Stone fairies flying With the blue-tack unstuck. As the anchor dragged deep Under the surface.

[little-mumbles-blog]

Materiality and death

Are inextricably linked

Are they not?

Something profoundly irreconcilable 

Between the thing that dies

And that goes on:

One imaginable

The other not.

[little-mumbles-blog]

Fictions. Figures. Myths. 

Fascination with death

And the flesh that will carry us to it. 

[little-mumbles-blog]

What question is the body

The answer to?

Can we seize on the body

In time and space

To give us full bodied

Meaning?

Erruption. Ongoing.

Material invention.

What a slippery question!

The account of the body

Insists I pay attention. 

[little-mumbles-blog]

the ego

ergo

echo

sounds

[little-mumbles-blog]

Reading Sam's Poems

You are backyards yesterday

Always all the things I

Have seen, going somewhere,

Nowhere. The pulling obscene

Fly catching window noise.

I wish you were you and I

Were me in my shoes wet

With river mud slicked,

Running next door to squeal

With the little boy some

Senseless sensible wishing

We were here and now.

[little-mumbles-blog]

A Festival in Paris

Dance is the only language we both speak:

Bodies together like sugar and wine

Moving through the blood,

Moving in a jungle.

We come together without knowing

The semiotics of pre-formed options. 

Elbows and knees share the space

Governed by beats under our feet.

[little-mumbles-blog]

I am still in love with you

And you and you and you

On and on forever

In endless variations.