Poetry

Issue #6

Four Images

I


Between moist grass and sunbright sand

I can smile; touch your hand.


II

A taxicab sits and waits,

Sits like a dead spider,

With legs curled up

And in.


III


Her vanity: the powder she

Smears on her skin.

To kiss it is to cough.

Underneath the daub is

Like her mind: strewn turpitudes

Of her sterile skin.


IV


Chocolate coloured leaves blow about your

pale ankles and crunch like cockroaches.

Ian Hartnell