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February, 2011

  1. Sarah’s drunken chickens

    February 28, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    sarah’s drunken chickens pecked and stumbled around the yard while michael and lucy shared a bottle of vodka sitting down – a bad move, really, because as soon as you stand up, whoosh, down you nearly go

    one of the chickens, hugo, he got all sombre and sad and kept quoting obscure poetry and slipping into latin

    hugo’s great but he gets a few in him and mistakes totally depressive for deep

    but then again, so do most of us

    Category Short stories | Tags: | No Comments

  2. Self improvement

    February 28, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    tom and lucy bleached their teeth, eyes and earlobes and then lucy said hey we need to lose weight so we look thin and pale but that would involve a lot of exercise so they used some of jame’s morphine and the surgical kit lucy bought at a market instead

    Category Short stories | Tags: | No Comments

  3. wooden playground

    February 27, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    sex is a sudden gift
    arriving with the lust
    bodies now active
    amazing thumping
    joy

    like having a wooden structure in your yard
    for all of your life so far
    and then one day,
    one day you realise it is an amusement park
    that rude wood bolted together is not merely functional
    it is pleasure and excitement and oh. my. god.

    and here come former playmates
    with amazing amusement parks of their own
    obsessed with pushing punters through
    obsessed obsessed fuck me right now!

    hot whispers and quiet moments
    with our incredible devices
    come play in my playground
    while i gently stifle you

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  4. remembered

    February 24, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    i first saw you in a dream
    barely remembered after awakening
    just your dark hair and eyes remained
    fifteen years later i saw you

    and
    i
    remembered
    you.

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  5. required

    February 21, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    let’s think of you
    over there with your skin and muscle
    building yourself a servant
    because building is right and good

    let’s think of us
    ten years ago with our vodka and tears
    crunching ice-cubes
    because crunching is cold and fun

    let’s think of tomorrow
    in bed with slatted windows
    collecting sand most studiously
    because it is required.

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  6. two suns

    February 18, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    waking up after a long night of drinking
    i found myself in a desert
    near a forest
    under a cloudy sky

    still fully dressed
    feeling thirsty
    feeling ill
    too much tequila

    shuffle to the edge of the forest
    like a stupid zombie
    and i saw shreds of leather
    laying under a tree

    a little further on, a shirt
    buttons scattered
    a worrying jagged tear
    a disturbing brown stain

    a few metres away something rusting
    hard edges, cracked glass
    vague recollection
    dials and levers

    the seat squeaked as I sat down
    a memory slapped me and ran away
    a weird man wanting something last night
    i was telling him about the Beatles, for tequila reasons

    everything here is old, so very farm shed rusted
    i scout the area, see a shoe
    barely glance at it
    look hard when I see there is still a foot in it

    i run to the edge of the forest
    back to the desert, feeling sick
    the clouds clear and now I’m frantic
    under two suns

    Category Poetry | Tags: ,,, | No Comments

  7. sins

    February 15, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    the unforgivable sins of today
    are so few

    soon the only unforgivable sin
    will be not trying some of them

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  8. when the dead rise

    February 6, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    when the dead rise / one final chance / to apologise

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  9. fearful tribes

    February 5, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    turns out those fearful tribes were right about the photographs
    and the stealing of the soul

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

  10. writer write

    February 5, 2011 by Mathew Ferguson

    writer write
    painter paint
    lover love
    waiter …

    wait

    Category Poetry | Tags: | No Comments

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