My Mother Stole My Underwear

not underwear, jacket
my best jacket
It had been my best jacket for 17 years
I did everything in it
I ate in it, made love in it, slept in it

One day it was gone
I looked for it everywhere
the slums of Delhi, the mountain tops
and within the very heart of evil

Years later, she told me
she'd hidden it in the loft
She did the same with my friends
didn't want me to have friends
She's in the freezer now



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I Look For Light Catching Tops of Waves

whether moon or sun breaking on beaches
quiet times in old libraries
a chair, by leaking gas fire
the radio gets code
bleeps of scrambled short wave
static from starclouds
galaxies, past
and next, you tell me it's all real
not figment, invention
and that, my friend,
means today is the day
the light
whips through all this grey matter
and silence



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