Alex Taylor

close[t/d]

you’re determined that nobody
knows what you’re really like
how you actually are what
planet you’re from it’s
difficult to construct an
impression when you do it
so badly

perhaps that’s why nobody
mistakes you for yourself
I never would have picked you
as if that is
a kind of compliment

you wonder if you ever learned
to take such a thing –
praise, criticism, a sharp look,
a tender squeeze

for a while you decide you’ll
transcribe everything he says
so you’ll learn to take it
it’s more objective that way it
doesn’t fester in your head

after a while you feel
different somehow
the slope of your moods is
gentler you’re able to express
more complex ideas your
skin more and more is
reminiscent of windows

 

 

park bench

he said he didn’t think
you would’ve come
and you didn’t either

but now you have
and your double entendre
has deserted you

 

 

outside, a cold day

having to arrive early you have time
to forget what s/he looks like your
free ticket the sound of caster sugar

the leaks in your memory are
riveting you renegade the sky
your old gossip spills out you’re
not you won’t you wouldn’t have

the clouds open behind you

 

 

Alex Taylor is a New Zealand composer and poet.