'The Dead start Fires' is the second collection of poetry from Russell J Turner. To purchase a copy of the chapbook for three pounds (including p&p), use PayPal via rascalapache@yahoo.co.uk or contact him direct on headCRASH@hotmail.co.uk

Or alternatively, purchase a copy from The Book Hive, 53 London Street, Norwich - http://www.thebookhive.co.uk/ - a fine independent bookstore.

Thursday, 16 December 2010

My Cocaine Mistress

You were huddled round the fire on the beach,
Shepherding the flames for the evening breeze.
Swapping Special Brew and spliffs with your mates:
Laughing stories of boys and toys,
Cocks and dildos.
Wrapped in a duffle coat of former days,
You flicked a curl back from your ear:
Unselfconscious, sweet, distracted, mischief on your mind;
You smiled not at me, but for me.
And I fell in love with you that night,
That very moment, on that beach,
I fell in love with you;
My cocaine mistress.

You were curled up on the sofa like a panther,
A panther with a roll-up and a glass of cheap red wine.
Grinning at the old war stories:
Tall tales of men and motors,
Parties and regret.
Wrapped in a dream of former days,
You spoke as secret lovers do:
Unselfconscious, absent, perfect, music in your eyes;
You talked not to me, but for me.
And I fell in love with you that night,
That very moment, on that sofa,
I fell in love with you;
My cocaine mistress.

You were crying on a corner in the rain,
Crying for your dead youth and the years that had been lost
At the loving hands of families and friends:
Relations of the blood and the blade,
Instruments and cigarettes.
Wrapped in a dislocation of former days,
Your tears washing away the innocence:
Unselfconscious, squalid, human, sorrow on your breath;
You kissed me. You kissed me.
And I fell in love with you that night,
That very moment, in that rain,
I fell in love with you;
My cocaine mistress.


You are stretched out on the bedsheet like a doll,
Arms akimbo, damaged lady porcelain.
Tracing the journeys your body has taken:
Broken maps of pain and lust,
Addictions and despair.
Wrapped in a skin of former days,
White powder fills the furrows of your flesh.
Unselfconscious, ephemeral, eternal, a perfume on your sweat,
Purging me of all my guilt.
And I fall in love with you this night,
This very moment, every moment,
I fall in love with you again;
My cocaine mistress.

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