Consolation Champs

Here follow some poems I have written in the past few years. Not much recently, though, although I hope to change that soon. Tell me what you think. And oh yeah, all work is ©James McNally, all rights reserved, not to be reproduced without permission, yadda, yadda, yadda…

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bad flowers

vomited petals
and the taste of roses
the bouquet I ate
it wasn’t love after all

(1992)

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wow

wow, I’ve got you subcutaneous
under my, and undermining,
cloudy skin, my silver lining
now my edges blur, extraneous
a smile from you, inflicted, shared
keeps me, lingering, for days
until some withheld tenderness
throws me, cursing, down the stairs
your blood runs secret in my veins
and I become as cold as fish
so you won’t figure out my wish,
so you won’t notice there what pains
I’ve taken, and take back. Meanwhile,
if I could clone you from that smile!

(1992)

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I’m sitting under a tree and leaves keep dropping off and hitting me. Maybe if I sit here long enough, I’ll be buried under leaves.

I feel like a pile of burning leaves. Summer is over and the fall is here. Why does my favourite season happen to be the season of decay? My autumnal flesh, already losing its shine, I tumble towards my december.

(1992)

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for dylan thomas

breezy bard
we share the celtic
ripple in the blood.
boozy word father,
we are haunted by
the same spirits.
a dripping rhythm
in the pulse a
whirlpool
in the throat a
wordy pain
in the head a
deep and empty pocket.

(1992)

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my autumn hair is turning to winter
the thin tree of my body listens
and deep within,
a small creaking
prepares.

(1992)

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Easter Week

i.

I woke at dawn
to find the whispering
frog in my ear
dead

plaguing me
with promises
dead
the whole time

ii.

I spent the night
hatching eggs in my mouth
birds nest
in my throat
and me
restless

beaks
against my teeth
feathers
tickle my tongue
nestlings
hide in the mouth
warmed
by my breath
their small eyes
can’t see me

until
they climb
like kites
into the sky

(1994)