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i drift out

on a raft of water

past bird ridden buildings

up on stilts


been on this river so long

my teeth are rusted shut


everything’s too close for comfort

anything can pull me under


so I go with her

because I don’t swim so well

because she doesn’t need me

or capitulate

she wears me out and down

& that’s the truth

til I choose either to drown

or to accommodate


i drift past scandals

in ghost shack clapboard

past failures

on mile high billboards

that she takes for reconstruction

she wastes nothing,

breaks me up in all directions

as striped light


i am the sun’s toy

& the river’s gilder,

the long held memory

of fire in water







Su Scotting  2015



everything moving is still and still moving

without some kind of filter i'd throw up all down your shirt

all of the time

why wouldn't i?

I'm a kaleidoscope

you're a zen spy in a big coat

that stinks of docks and ferries

i imagine fountains, knife fights

bundles of notes

all of which gets us nowhere

and such an awful big nowhere

that my heart aches

trying to cling on to my ribcage

as we dance the Big Dance

at the end of Time

because it is ending

and its replacement will have no face

so we are always here

touching without touching

and sighing into the well



Su Scotting 2016




All along the border are flowers,

under the sea

& hidden behind the moon,

on shaky ground

& burnt moth poets' tombs.

Pointless, hopeless, sudden

& determined



Su Scotting 2017




come to me quiet

we're older

we know how to do nothing

& there's so much of it

our hands aren't enough



Su Scotting 2015

Silence at the heart of it


old mushroom

with a network of babies

hidden in plain sight

spreads while you sleep

so you wake up further

than you could have thought,

draws us with accurate filaments

laid out like a Roman street

to the unscientific moment

where our soft hearts meet.


when you've been around as long as she has

you're just sitting, caretaking,

all your fingers in the earth.


Su Scotting  2017

newt skin



swimming beside me

roll neck newt skin

was just the slime on my fingers

but back in the water

filled up & motoring happy

those anxious little rubber gloves

pawing at the pond

know what they're for now.


this was the jacket mother peeled off

between the hours of four and six.


no thing playing in no thing

thoroughly enjoying itself

& maybe for the first time



Su Scotting 2017

the breathing tree



was wrapped with dead lights

rusting tinsel

tired balloons

could hardly hold itself.


Landfill, Charlie Brown.


could not compete with

self watering eco-trees

svelte Scandi birches

orgasmic LEDs


could not afford

re-branching, needle buffing


could just do one thing

all the rest was extras

& they were failing

fusing, falling

from the bare bones.


bare breath

smoking late December




Su Scotting 2017


Chinese Hermits



Fuck Nursing Homes

these people are up in the mountains

staring down lions

sitting on kangs

crossing frayed rope bridges

in cracked sandals,

suits made out of ink,

watching the floating world

through rented eyes



Su Scotting 2017

i read old Chinese poets

watch cranes dance

drink tea

observe the scuffed linoleum

come to terms with rain

because we have all given up together

& sat down on the floor

where things crawl, hesitate

or just plain stop



Su Scotting 2017

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