Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

a pretty girl who naked is
is worth a million statues
                       e e cummings

serif of the G-string still visible
phone call sealed into conversation
clothed concentration
no-one could guess    before
ecstasy you said
sun swallowed by the whale cloud
stalked lawn dizzy with midge
crack me open a coldie
& back in for more     love
starfish light spangled us a song
& its so hard to ask if you've come
with your foot in my mouth

apple cider hot
cinnamon scrub
buttock to hip
in flesh-words:
the pup.
dull sweet
honey butter
love mark
by the sweat mark
scritch-scratch
so this, love
is what is meant
by all the happy
words that end
in ness

riverrun     well      self-vortexed jacuzzi
speaks in tubular baubles
let this something last sometime
knees more porcelain than flesh
water sharper
distortions drip (me) in your eyes
fluid-cubic
turn fish-lithe to address the situation of your neck
cool fountain bi-licks between us
catches the light

this is this : let it pass

summer freaked
into your dress
whiteness & decisions

newquay

amsterdam

paris

purple glitter
traced to its source
at the base of your neck
(remembered running
midnight  / naked
over the green)
husk sweat
bookmaker's smoke
fumes of the heathway
somehow     still
you smell of sea-breeze
which takes me right in
size of the wave
motion of the ocean
shows shockwhite
back   teeth   as   before
the backgarden surprise
of we have berries

endless bibliography of expressions
typical of me to say true
symposium of nuance
where we meet
lymph-nodes
jouissance resurfaces in your features
sea's surround sound through trees
from above, semaphore of yes
your beauty now half-dressed
in a t-shirt
called “THE WORLD’S END”

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