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
Flowers
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
Older
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
unadorned.
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