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teeth shook and jasmine

 

my teeth shook      in
my skull  and jasmine
edged           distantly
it was far     and away
the best  we’d known
it           incomparable
afternoon      within a
mediocre year      you
suggested       a picnic
I             stripped off
there & then  celadon
sky      and similar sea
and so much summer
to get   ourselves into
cars         like vultures
circling                like
no tomorrow     as if
no        not   like that
tutors              rather
the learning      curve
or the way    a runner
bean     turns   to grip
and matte paint    on
sun-ladened       walls
while        everywhere
else is         elsewhere
music of       intimate
and            anecdotal
life      stuff         she
screamed            and
screamed            and
no-one came       the
day            advanced
towards its   horrible
end      and anodyne
matter    meant more
and more        honey
suckle              leaves
yellow           and fall
and a tongue     thick
from menthols   dabs
at         dry          lips

 

 

 

[Rufo Quintavalle was born in London in 1978 and now lives in Paris where he helps edit the literary magazine, Upstairs at Duroc. He is the author of the chapbook, Make Nothing Happen (Oystercatcher Press, 2009) and is poetry editor for the webzine, nthposition.  He blogs at http://www.rufoquintavalle.blogspot.com.]

Copyright © 2011 by Rufo Quintavalle, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.