Small Dole

There – Careful – it takes us up
with a broken concrete offering
to David’s uneven heat-scratched lawn
of bastard grasses and inveterate weeds –

unintended God stuff
but enough to sow doubts
Still – we can cut them out
without too much effort –
for now

A weed is a flower
without a lover
a friend had said – as well as
his stern dictum of
Michael – never marry a woman

That Israeli summer of sweat
between Anat’s wet thighs
was his concern and my lust –
Michael – she said – I love your brother

Clackety-clack – they sang –
as a rattled song of songs –
those flitting overnight sprinklers
spun once our local nuclear option
had dropped to eight o’clock

David could name every living thing
as if God had passed down his crown
We walked together – he looped
with his now-trademark swagger

in his Sussex-rooted garden
of kind disregard for fixed horticulture
And there was my first instance of knowing
that a shared disease is ours to reap

Breathing Out

This is an interval, ein Augenblick
Philp K. Dick

Before your lake – we stood naked
and overconfident in such ease –
having lost our cold distrusts
in earlier bared dips and slow strokes

Your surrounding land is disconnected
through every minute by our staying afloat
as we mark our desire path of currents
with briefly sunken bubbles

Over that unmeasured depth of secrets
below my grabbable limbs
you whisper – again – of being taken
and my fear of drowning is reawakened

There is a dry patch on your neck
that emits a hazy whiff of chlorine
There are no known medical conditions
to explain your chemical sweat

You break the surface from your dive
as if expelled by buoyant hate
having brushed my shrunken parts
whilst playing with my sinking fears

It takes seconds for your eyes
to open – birthed in that brief ooze
of broken tensions – we have no rope
to pull us from our uncharted abyss