The Hothouse Rose: Twelfth Tattersby

    The Folly Tattersby     The Hothouse Rose   ‘You’ll have to get rid of that woman’ Her voice rings oddly clear, a piercing ray of sun snowcaps Mrs. Kentworthy’s hair His housekeeper meets his eye; a glance up from her cleaning kit And withering glare, that says indeed, keeping fealty with the […]

And Crying (poem)

    And Crying   They wanted to tell the saddest of stories That needed its ending quickened and dashed Dear hope It needed a lapse A single star A nightfall to recuse itself from mustness Just light to mark the weathering of an instant Mercury slow its downslide soon to plummet A face with […]

Awful Rivalry: Eleventh Tattersby

    The Folly Tattersby     Awful Rivalry   The extraordinary freedom! I refer to taking matters of despatch into one’s own hands. I had been inclined, even I, to stick to rules, you know. Embarrassing the name of Bevington not done. (As though this were a thing of real concern.) I bore the […]

Sum of (poem)

    Sum of   Long patience, the sort a society of resurrectionists Calls its like-to-like decode of Low resonance A Plan, cryptographical embed, that which Sifts the dead-weight from the Superman A blat from the alpenhorn In figure Reverbs of duty-bound orders, secret Errants who have stood Before the longbow, and sacrificed the ear […]

Side of Life (poem)

    Side of Life   A stranger draws a curtain Of stories across the stage his sex is judged To be male At length there is no hiding The thoughts of the silent dying captured In the act of uncorking the bottle The reasons people think Bent over gallon jugs decanting Cup by cup […]

Roscoe Bevington: Tenth Tattersby

    The Folly Tattersby     Roscoe Bevington   I feel cheated. Yes, cheated, in a profound and unexpected way You won’t like crediting Roscoe Bevington with profundity Not least because, educated as you’ve been You no doubt cherish philosophy as franchise Don’t much take to it, a wrong’un like myself Waxing Aristotelian on […]

One Day the Rest (poem)

    One Day the Rest   You’ve reached that head-scratching stall A sporting set of wheels is trundling, but Leggy and eggy in conception, you ratchet off Your grace and rhythm paced, more or less Like a flat tire’s Ba-whump ba-whump And if you could die, you would die to a tune Your steps […]

Loaded Language (poem)

    Loaded Language   The housing of Dillard’s vital organs A compress wrapped to resist untightening Larded arteries under dress clothes Slick heels on his buckled shoes Cocked back in a goatskin executive chair His limbs clench at the camera’s disclosure Despite he kicks in feeling rancor He shoots from the situation room table […]

Not Wanted Here: Ninth Tattersby

Posted by ractrose on 16 Jan 2019 in Art, Poems

    The Folly Tattersby     Not Wanted Here   Awkward. He reminds himself he’d said it to the host Not long ago. He’d meant Fiona. Tattersby. And the awkwardness was Sex. Well, but…the guest says, temporizing. In this dense fog, strolling with somnambulant, cautious footing, he feels the sheen of mist like Lady […]

Comfortingly (poem)

Posted by ractrose on 14 Jan 2019 in Art, Poems

    Comfortingly   Why, sun in sky, heart on fire Chimneying throat to brain Befogging vision, bothering the rain Belting diphthongs, oohs for blues Or why do fools   Set their hair aflame Be the wick-end of a honeycomb taper A little eco-chico a moth won’t pay for Scorns its enticer for this brief […]