April is Da Cruellest Month (NaPoWriMo 2007)

A poem a day for April.

Day 01 - Caligula and Harpo

His hair looked good. It was a day to be photographed.

Day 03 - Светлана Феофанова

More a reworking of a short story today.

Day 04 - Dark Jon

1 part Mail headline, 2 parts taste for the finer things.

Day 05 - Chalicothere

Long dead sounds, ghost sounds, hunting for ears.

Day 07 - I sit on the steps of the temple,

bloodstains on my dressing gown. Dead leaves skate the stone. My backpack is full of half-read books and someone down there is trying to get my attention.

Day 08 - Idol

Because I'll never know you, and because I'll never set out on some pilgrimage to find you, I must conjure up your fizz of smells from my own kitchen bricolage.

Day 09 - Now we must walk together, but I will keep my mouth shut

Having a sugar-powered Japanese fangirl handcuff herself to me was the closest I ever came to stardom.

Day 10 - Shells

A crack like splintering bone, the dust-whiff, like I've blown the age off an old book, and liberated contents emptied, paper skins sticking in my throat.

Day 12 - Next Time on 'Flatmates'


Day 13 - What I learnt from Spin the Bottle

only the blatant approach man-to-man kissing with trepidation.

Day 14 - Lovesong

You didn't kiss me You didn't swim with me in the chilled white wine of the pool, too early in the day for everyone else

Day 15 - Expert Witness

On the one hand, Dr. Fegan-Earl, standing in the witness box, places his own fist lightly against his cheek.

Day 19 - Adrienne goes through the metal detector

While I am armouring myself again - the broken turtleshell of my backpack, the chainmail of my keys, the thick wedge of my wallet

Day 20 - Urgent Telegram

You need not hurry to the station while an orchestra rages stop

Day 21 - Sunday

Water is cut by the misty runway of a pochard taking off

Day 23 - Coming For Me

The diagram of red lights playing on the ceiling - some devil mark, some curse? Like Germanicus finding a slaughtered hen stowed beneath loose floor tiles,

Day 25 - His misery began and ended with his moustache

The morning he looked the mirror in the eye and did not shave he dropped the whole bag of sugar onto his bowl, catapulting a slalom of milk over his neck and shirt.

Day 26 - Another Person's Boudoir

First thing I notice is the used condom, slug-tailed over the chilly rim of a champagne bucket. This is pretty classy. The curtain-rail has sunk in the centre. It is a wall-mounted longbow.

Day 27 - The Music

My boots are useless as boots.

Day 28 - Why I want to be a Famous Poet

I'd tolerate others' neediness and weaknesses with the sympathy and gentlemanly manner of a person within one month's reach of a skiing holiday...

Day 29 - Yawn

She stretches out on the bed, gown untied!