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The Jealousies
by
Benjamin Stainton

OUT NOW

The Jealousies by Benjamin Stainton

31st December 1999

This brooding city floods
with love & burgeons
in a surge of frenzied reds.

The warm bodies
offer up their waters.

Tower Bridge - consumed
by the weight of elated tongues.
Chinks in the wet concrete
house tiny eyes & fires.

You gasp & swallow
the flaming river in gulps.
I cock my ecstatic limbs
under the exploding moon.

Release his swollen hand &
inhale my hips.
His alcohol head is hacked off
in the scything of the stars.

We unhook our bones
for a last stroke of London's chin.

Our mouths suck
the biting night, whole.
& pink fingertips tingle in secret.

Black Cynthia

The Sanderson stinks of day-old drinks.
He pours himself thick again
while I drift like 'Cleopatras corpse.

The streetcar idles. I need wipers.
Spector oozes from the chamber,
through a screen of green smoke.

Fat bottles, fag-ends & flowers
smile like my daddy. El Diablo
makes my tongue foam.

*

He stomps out in time for cracks
to appear under eyeliner.
A tiny white Jewish Sarah Vaughn.

Bruised lips. Never trust a mirror.
The real damage is internal. No, no, no.
Remember Cynthia; always close.

My baby has grown fresh bones.
He's a skinny devil in Soho
with a fucking trilby for horns.

*

Knives - too many knives
making purple lines in powder
& a lime satin dress, slashed.

Amy, Amy, Amy - bandaged.
My blood is the wrong colour.
I imagine excess as a pin-up girl.

The call-girl tickles my lip,
lowers her straps & circles a nip;
more - more - more. Thirsty bitch.

*

Papped outside the gin-hall!
Speedballs with a beady libertine!
Caught limp in a shmedia net!

Calm. Calm down. Stop
the splurging vein & run a bath.
Quieten the fiery cunt & step away.

But I love him like Billie
loved Louis McKay. Like a burnt
spoon. My waist eats itself.


21st August 2004

Este amor prístino tiene raven-pelo…

A proud bull with puffed chest,

stands surveying his lusty women
from the coastal hotel roof.

I scuff bronze dust with a hoof,
wilting on my beachhead floor.

This sun polishes glass like water,
forming beads on the bare tans.

The clouds remain aloof,
so I drink the sea.

She emerges in red,
carrying a familiar scent of pears.

Ringlets drip dark holes in the sand.
Her face is framed by salt &

fresh as a lemon grove.
I opened her mauve dress once,

in a tremble before awakening.
Freckles rise to the brim & wink,

like pale roses speckled with ink.
The Spanish tide swallows me in pieces.

She fishes my scarlet heart back to shore.

Este amor prístino tiene raven-pelo…

Words

The room is a red chrysalis,
& I, its fat pupae. Spindly evil
smells my helpless worm.
Its drone becomes berserk.

Ungainly plastic hands
roil over themselves
for a dip inside my hollow.

I am eternal.
Eternally scraping
light from the lids of others -

she, glitter in thick blackness,
he, digesting plump forever.
The rest are pencil jottings
in the margin. Erasable.

Years of sludge pass; beyond.

*

The tired vulva unclamps.
I vomit perfume. My sack splits
& a searing white
pours from the formless mass.

Words;
like raving colossi,
rip the remaining tissue.

I yank free my tender lip,
puffed with fire
& the flower of ecstasy,

large enough to fill a world,
yet nothing solid leaks
when I try speaking.
The mouth is a blitzed city.

Failure: my grandest birth.

Ella

Like the coiling mouth of the evening sea,
my love for her light opens & closes,
she cracks open the sullen heart of me,

I, creaking like a storm riven jetty,
love, marking my stave while night exposes
the darkened branches of a cypress tree,

we burn our bridges with hard liberty,
yet soften, aglow as Moortown dozes
or wakes, hungry for a first cup of tea,

I thirst & burst for a ripened berry
to bite; Ella, who never supposes
to judge the shadow of bitterest me,

yet still we mingle as one tragedy -
she is my bed & cascade of roses,
I am her river & frayed sanctity.

Green dawn bleeds into the skin of she,
sleeping while nature gently composes
the coiling waves of the sunlit sea,
she breaks over the open heart of me.

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© Benjamin Stainton, 2008.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
The rights of Benjamin Stainton to be identified as the author have been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and patents act 1988
 

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