Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Them Heels That Went On By / Varnish / Black Wine / Buildings and Rooms



David Mac is a 35-year-old wino forklift driver from the UK whose work can be found in Streetcake Magazine, Bone Orchard Poetry, Ambit, Purple Patch, The Journal, Weyfarers, Ink Sweat & Tears, United Press, Monkey Kettle, Clockwise Cat, Urban District Writer, Erbacce, Urban Landscapes, Heroin Love Songs, Neon Highway, KRAX, Moodswing, Antique Children, Danse Macabre, Mud Luscious, Burning Houses, This Zine Will Change Your Life, Poetry Over Coffee, Global Tapestry Journal, Orbis, Obsessed With Pipework, Howls and Pushycats, Word Riot, Decanto, The Delinquent, Dawntreader, Sarasvati, Black Heart Magazine, Broken Wine, Horror Sleaze Trash, Negative Suck, Naughty Girl X, My Delayed Reactions, The Vaginellas, Mad Rush Magazine, Gloom Cupboard, Yellow Mama, Welcome To Wherever, Thick Jam, Instant Pussy, Camel Saloon, 1/25, Boyslut, The Original Van Gogh’s Ear Anthology, PPigpenn as well as being a featured poet on The Poetry Kit’s ‘Caught On The Net’. He has collections out with Erbacce Press, Knives Forks & Spoons Press, Ten Pages Press, Like This Press, Writing Knights Press, plus various self-published chapbooks. He lives somewhere deep in the Bedfordshire hell and like cats and Humphrey Bogart movies.


Them Heels That Went On By

The sounds of their heels drove us wild
We’d be in the warehouse and they’d be in the corridor
We could hear them but could not see them
They drove us wild with lust
Here we were trapped like beasts
And there they went
The tapping of high heels
We imagined all that hot mad flesh
All those shapes swaying
We worked and strained in bent-over agony
Everything is for money
And we’d snarl and sweat and lick our lips with desire
10 hour days
We’d not see a woman
But we could hear them and it was good
Solid sounds of bodies
Weight on this earth
And we’d think of skirts and blouses and hair and heels
We could hear them but not see them
Like they were ghosts full of sex
Dreams full of cunt and hips
Belly and tits
They were lucky those heels
We could not devour them with our hungry eyes
But our thoughts chased them
Down corridors of time
Time
It’s all you ever have to pursue


Varnish

The end of the
world 
as she paints her
finger
nail

Pink
soft
pink

And she
blows
shakes and
dips
starts the next
one
until all five
are
complete

And the rest of
us
never
existed
at
all

 
 
Black Wine

The nights burn everything in their path
everything they touch
and have no end

And this black wine
has been
killing us for days

‘Oh you fucking love it’
she said

I nodded and pulled down
the walls
the room
the sky
 
So we were done
with the world


 
Buildings and Rooms

‘I don’t drive’
she said
‘I don’t wanna ever get
that far away’

And she hung a
dark shawl
over the window
and only patches
of sunlight
stabbed through
the holes

And outside
in the town
there were buildings
and rooms
some of which I had been in
some of which I had not

and the people
the people moved about the place
coz that’s what
people do

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