Selected poems
Prior to Christ
He wandered through wilderness,
dined on locust thorax and cuticle,
slurped from jugs of honey and preached;
to his following he said, 'The end is nigh.'
He dunked their heads in rivers.
At broods of vipers he screamed.
Inspired he sang of another man
prophesied to shine His light,
guide and act as lamb.
Herod, a tetrarch, ordered his arrest;
fearful of zealots and Tiberius' boot.
Upon baptising a carpenter, king,
a dove descended from the sky.
Wednesday evenings in Zhangjiagang
About ten minutes from our apartment
our Chinese opponents wait for our weekly
game of soccer, played on astro-turf,
on the top of a multi-storey car-park.
We play with the intensity of men
who engage with cardio just once a week.
Our team is multi-national; there's a skilful lad
from Hamburg who glides like a swan,
who scores many goals, another from Dublin
who jokes that he's running from the law.
The yank on our team is a scientist
who plays in goal; he answers my questions
on the Big Bang, on the many species
of fish, while we catch our breath on the side.
After the game we shake hands, and go
in taxis to the pub in the city — famed
for its fat burgers and cheap lager.
We toast to our win, question our visas,
exaggerate our sexual prowess, discuss
nothing and everything. We sign up
for next week's match, same time, same place
the top of the multi-storey car-park
where we each giving meaning to our week.
Don Juan takes a lover to a lake
Romantic walks in the wood have us hand
in hand pointing at the sycamore trees,
the grey-squirrels searching for nuts;
we comment on their vermin like shell
and their beady black eyes, on the white
priest-like collar of the fat wood pigeons
performing their sermons.
We go deeper, find a cool lake, rest
and recite anecdotes of selling juniper
and sage by the gram.
A twisted stick becomes my instrument;
I write erotic vignettes
in the clear water; you watch the ripples