amicable. adj. characterized by friendliness and absence of discord.  ORIGIN (in the sense of pleasant) from late L. amicus ‘friend’

an amicable seper ashun

friend. n. 1 a person with whom one has had a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations. > used in polite address to an aquaintance or stranger. 2 a familiar or helpful thing.  ORIGIN OE freond of gmc origin; rel to FREE

i need the freedom to  b r e a t h e
                             to  moneyworry
to lay stiff-as-a-board in my bed

and laugh HA HA HA like a
robot
         HA HA HA     with blotchy skin
                              and a painted-on smile like blossom too early
                              dashed to asphalt by pounding rain
to mush, to mush!

in this pyrrhic silence
i am a tambourine
still for now

.
 

perfectly grey, perfectly clear
stone and twig 

 ice-winds
tumble and shove
This terrible cave

blown to face her by gusting April winds.
the weed bucket lures her into its hellish mouth
plastic silent scream
pattered by rain.

spring makes a mockery of her
as a crowd
loudly surging forward to an invisible horizon
an invisible end
and what but the light shall guide the days

a liar, a liar
of safety.

the gravel is deliciously bland and innate
heavy as her hands; crepe-paper wrapped sticks
as useless as the bucket that offers no hiding place.
 

pernicious persimmon
oh we are all so sadforyou
seedfilled and bloating in your
                                     shiny fatskin-firmflesh

cowering, glowering in the seedbeds and
sniping with the seeedliings
you skulk-sulk
and turn my stomach with your fleshy ripeness.

sooner or later a toad will  s u c k
the jooce from you
and all that shall remain will be your  shiny  red  skin
shrivelled and crisping in the sun  .ha. .ha.

poor persimmon, all alone in the gar-den
pop you in the compost bin               with the worms~and~woodlice
you will be   sufficiently   miserable there

you will like it.

cellophanewrapped
flimsy and so full of what-may-happens;
On   This   Cold   Day
                                    the small schedule of classes on my doormat
brings August
early

heaven knows we need some sunshine
Dahlia - 1 vase, 3 blooms, miniature, Decorative, Cactus or Semi-Cactus
under thick.canvas, a sordino for the obligatory unexpected summer downpour

We nearly bought a pair of yellow-footed calling ducks
and

‘why are there so many doctors?’ my son asked, watching
                                the livestock judges in their white coats            we had laughed then.

this torsion kills me now

: a dundee cake, cherries allowed

                                                           .

then again, we could
.
.
the phone burrrrrrs off the rest and
I burn off the rest of the daylong shadows with a match
Sulphurous
.
.
we could be lovers, i suppose, but what for, really?
.
.
for fun,
for conversations about penguins
                         and sharing meals
.
.
i smile.
i  wonder if he would say that if i were a fat cook
with a patio
and no thyme ~  and i laugh while i tip on my chair
.
.
we could be lovers without fun, or friends without
passion,
why waste both by being greedy? - i ask
.
.
i would never ask you to choose, never promise, never lie
.
.
surely saying never is a kind of promise,
let’s say nothing and lay in the dark 
.
.
.then again
.
.
don’t say love, don’t say love, don’t say love
.
.    
why are you afraid of  love ~ love is lovely? 
love is strong,
                       not snap.brittle,
                       not prinkling and shardish,it bounces,                  like a vinegar egg.
.
.
but look at you.  you are in so much pain and all for love, all of it, for love.
.
.
Shh, so very little to do with love, so very tiny and nothing
ob lei gaysh un 
that is all.  and bricks.   Yes.  it is rather a lot about bricks and 
.
.
you are small, come here, come and watch television and I will make you toast and draw eights on your arm with the teaspoon handle.  I will hold your feet and watch your face while you think about things and i will listen to you.  come here 
.
.
i have to go now
to the river
i have stones to swallow
i will see you soon
.
.
.
.
epilogue
.

snipping foil with scissors is so very satisfying, so sharp.clean and perfectly blunting and i
  breathe and
  breathe and
  breathe . still . hearing the sea in the reciever, my breath soporific on return
{amongst the escape- the retreat of wordmemories; he shouts about the car and i crumple inside ~ for the differences balanceon a cottonthread on an eyelash and now, now again i am crying like a bruise, like an apple bruise and shaking so badly, and it’s all about the car}
.
.

then again, we could

the phone burrrrrrs off the rest and I burn off the rest of the days shadows with a match
Sulphurous

we could be lovers, i suppose, but what for, really?

for fun, for conversations about penguins and sharing meals

smile and wonder if he would say that if i were a terrible cook with a patio
with no thyme and chives and i laugh while i hang the mirror

we could be lovers without fun, or friends without passion, why waste both by being greedy - i ask

i would never ask you to choose, never promise, never lie

surely saying never is a kind of promise, slip slidey shale beds lay quietly, blueloaming, after all

i am not sure i understand

no, i am not surprised

snipping foil with scissors is so very satisfying, so sharp.clean and perfectly blunting and i breathe and breathe and breathe still, hearing the sea in the reciever, my breath soporific on return

                                                    {amongst the escape the retreat of wordmemories; he shouts about the car and i crumple inside ~ for the differences balance on a cottonthread on an eyelash and now, now again i am crying like a bruise, like an apple bruise and shaking so badly, and all over the car}             

don’t say love, don’t say love, don’t say love    

why are you afraid of love, love is lovely?  , love is strong, not snap.brittle, not prinkling and shardish, it bounces, like a vinegar egg.

but look at you.  you are in so much pain and all for love, all of it, for love.

ah!    o   no sweet you no no.  nothing to do with love
ob leigh gaysh un  that is all, and bricks.
Yes, it is rather a lot about bricks and

you are small, come here, come and watch television and I will make you toast and draw squiggles on your arm with the teaspoon handle, the way you like it.  I will hold your feet and watch your face while you think about things and i will listen to you.  come here

i have to go now to the river
i have stones to swallow
i will see you soon

.

now that the crocuses are peeping
bashfully
                 (we are so sorry, we know its early but we are here)

and last time, last time, last year…….this time last year, when I was happy
and
whole

and notshattered

no edits, no sobriety will make this coherent, only straight.

so I let him cut me a fringe, I sat there like a baby with my
head in their hands,

Me heart in their hands
my grief in their hands                                                dear everyone
                                                                                        please be so kind as to
                                                                                        rip off my skin and send it back
                                                                                        in the self addressed envelope
                                                                                        quickly now

                                                                                        quickly please

the papers are pending
my everything is B
                                 ending                                and i amhollow at once
                                                                             pretending to be pragmatic
                                                                             comforting myself in other bodies
                                                                             in other broken people

help me

i do not look good with my hair like this
I do not look good like this in thisskin  in this blood this splash of intestines
                                                              take your jolly fuckin’ music
                                                              take your good advice
                                                              take my stomach and squeeze

words
pins and needles

tea and biscuits
salt and pepper

yeah, I’m smoking again and do you fucking care, do you, do you fucking care, do you?
 
 

and it was nice
                         [rare bloody-slice
                         treebark beef]
                                                        enough

the house was most.empty on return
                          most emp tee
an allabout me   ee lek tri sit ee   tingled
                           moth;breath
                                                

                                                                                  in anotherlife it would be
                                                                                  (Da da daaaaa…….)LOVE

but oh, shhh, not here, notnow
sosilly silly silly

                                                                                (it was allfine ~  then you{shh, stop} said
                                                                                                            thatthing

your mouth is beautiful when you are thinking circles

                                                                                                                     see!  see!)

whata hullabaloo inme

is over at last
and from the hilltop
my arm, strained back and
~flingring a spin: freezing air humms
and a perfect arc through scritchbranches
to softland in seven years of leaflitter mossbeds
                                                       :archaeologists
upon removing the old.hill will call for the magnifying glass

                                                                                                            SLJ 2001

but pull it up~ stuckbacked and smellling
heave it
leaving gritmotes and hairy bits ev ree where

                                         yeah, you’d be proud of me for listmaking
                                         []kitchen ceiling
                                         []dump carpet
                                         []beer better muthur
                                         []repairlife n broke n heart
                                         []dinner?

sniggle yourself thin within grim.walls
                                         night recalls and the depths of the lumbering dream.sea

~ waterweight
dreamstate numbering

swallow’cobbles
                           bellyheavy and alltogether
                           a good idea to hold me down
                          

                                                                                         if you love me
                                                                                         hold my coldhand
                                                                                         and
                                                                                         stand
.

.
[durdledoor  shh   so bowbacked
                       i am.small but i'll hold you]

                                                                      put it in the boot and then i can tick
                                                                      a []