High Heaven
subterranean oceans ...
Martian sea-folk
followed the soak indoors
starlightdrive
the universe
our engine
sheen of moonlight
on her hair ...
distances collapse
sedge skirts the menhir
under rising Venus ...
the mind contains space
Coyote swaps the moon
for a turd ... the sky stinks
to high heaven
beneath the floor
the mouth-mouse
... our house floats on Sheol
The Negative Fog
flash-frozen mermaids …
prices slashed
in the suffermarket aisles
hangar 666
the hearts idling
in a billion, billion flies
the hedge begets …
cheeping
of sparrow angels
the here of there …
distance passes
through the spaceleech
‘twould twist your tongue
three micecubes chill
old Vlad’s vodka
electric bayou …
the mist guitar
of Johnny C. Through
scales of light the lamps
of the deep … by the pinch
of her tail he follows
frozen match-flames …
in the negative fog our
thoughts become brittle
Finite Frontier
space just
a puzzle-box
now it opens up
magmacopter
cools to pumice ... a pilot too abstract
to comprehend
cherry blossom
shatters the heart ... no astral ribbons
tether us
Neolithic
cup and ring marks ...
stone engine ready
crew of
the modified protozoa ...
blood-space the finite frontier
slimy sapiens ...
from their glass vialships
the vladpoles hither
wyverns of hollow Mercury ...
a pea-sized sun
gives never-nightJohn W. Sexton is the author of four previous poetry collections, the most recent being Vortex (Doghouse, 2005) and Petit Mal (Revival Press, 2009). His fifth collection, The Offspring of the Moon, is due from Salmon Poetry in spring 2013. Under the ironic pseudonym of Sex W. Johnston he has recorded an album with legendary Stranglers frontman, Hugh Cornwell, entitled Sons Of Shiva, which has been released on Track Records. In 2007 he was awarded a Patrick and Katherine Kavanagh Fellowship in Poetry.
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