CAROL WATTS
Sundog
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Carol Watts lives in London. Her poetry includes two collections with Reality Street, Occasionals (2011) and Wrack (2007), the chapbooks When blue light falls (Oystercatcher, 2008, 2010), this is red (Torque Press, 2009) and brass, running (Equipage, 2006), and the artist’s book alphabetise, now an eBook (Intercapillary Editions, 2011). Her work also involves mixed media – photography, drawing and collage. It includes Horrid Massacre: A Récit, a sequence told through shopping receipts, currently online in part at Ekleksographia. Her poetry has been anthologised in the Reality Street Book of Sonnets, Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets, and her ‘Zeta Landscape’ series in The Ground Aslant: An Anthology of Radical Landscape Poetry. Sundog, a sequence of 60 poems, is due out in 2012.
the Earth sings Mi, Fa, Mi: you may infer even from the syllables that in this our home misery and famine hold sway
Johannes Kepler, Harmonices Mundi
I have six birds on the go
trust me
go molecular orbits echoes of
disturbance & spectacular low arc
manifold
each finding its level lies in flat
susurrations
till we pass out
celestial dust laik
sundogs do this glint of child
trust me
I have six birds laik
fat
chuck chuck membranes rolled
white & hexagonal soft as
as many feathered beds
well hung
medlars rot
under stars of
indistinguishable hemispheres
& waited for
eating is good
fat
mock mock
coriolis
comes in on a curve
reeded laik
shiny waters
stuck in
finger refract
that’s what I mean
though if someone caught me
up on that
I’d be laik
shimmering & preened
what
sundog knows its own
fakery
six burning babes
on the go
not speeding laik
sparrows
hung globular &
daring retinal burnout
not yet clinkered
cold flaming slow
blushed as
from the mouth of
yeah but hold on though
what is it what is the name
sucklings
stoked up from this dark
orbit dense universal heart
never where
you left
all these burning
roundelays
irritate the life laik out of
polar
trailing that late glare
maintaining mock
gimlet severity
still as rosy as they bounce
I have six
on the go
hung
over mi fa mi
laik I could sing
without barking in magnesium
flare-ups
sanguine sun dog
mock mock
ellipses
green sunsets do
that upper true sun
counterfeit
smiles laik I could sing
terra wards
mi fa mi
what naturally & suitable
melody laik
cuckoos shines in
celebrity tetrachords
swing low sweet
sundog too heavy
to break with
parheliacal constancy
turns planetary &
spurious
I have six
cast up
coronal
that’s deep
never could hold a note
in the dark go
bob-bob-bobbing
along
red-breasted
the closer it gets & solar
winded
over shoulder shadows
pick them out sickening at
attention cold
fusing their own
conflagrations are dense blast
damage held
in the sky & everyone
bathing in received light
wilder sunned
spots
contending
laik the air rises to this point
late in the
day but I have six birds
cribbed & hungry with chorusing
did you only just get this
burning is a cold cold
fat fate
poor sundog a-cold &
chattering chuck chuck
burn yourself
asterist
trust me
I have this happy scene
shining on the beach
day for night
vision demands elevation
but in the shadows lines
of transit work
their small striations
botoxed out of
crow’s feet
scuttling in arc manifolds
all these singular
unpecked observances
hanging their faithful
orbs laik a lantern to come home to
mi fa mi
skimmed from the top
naked & hopeful
relentless gleam laik
permanent as-if receiving
they have such bonny faces
cherubic sun for eyes &
rays
spoking laik
retro wall clocks
tock tock
baroque
apology for awakening finds
itself impassive
that guy
screaming at the screen
I’ll kill you fuckin sundog
don’t want
that bile coming in to the room
dripping
try to sing against the tide
this earth allows
& burns off skywards
I have six birds on the go
la la la
mi fa mi
the world puts it out so loud
all those shining
putti in these hands are
something not material
bugles fused & readying
fake ceremonials
go burning babes go culvers
cooing in universal
rafters do you
trust me
in yr circular
breathing
laik
you do
ramble & forget me
s undog
the very sun seemed to be a new one
laik if someone caught me
we’d be finished with
reflected gleaming
it is a dense dark heart orison
beating a slow fat rhythm
pretends a-gilded
circulation fat-cheeked
carousel
buoyed up on the
mock mock
merle
laik you chorus
dear life
sundog
& yr uncomprehending
larks forget
what
terraforms
in song
so many
open mouths
following heat
as-if
galactic
I have six birds
on the go
finding bright beads
in the box
trust me
Carol Watts lives in London. Her poetry includes two collections with Reality Street, Occasionals (2011) and Wrack (2007), the chapbooks When blue light falls (Oystercatcher, 2008, 2010), this is red (Torque Press, 2009) and brass, running (Equipage, 2006), and the artist’s book alphabetise, now an eBook (Intercapillary Editions, 2011). Her work also involves mixed media – photography, drawing and collage. It includes Horrid Massacre: A Récit, a sequence told through shopping receipts, currently online in part at Ekleksographia. Her poetry has been anthologised in the Reality Street Book of Sonnets, Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets, and her ‘Zeta Landscape’ series in The Ground Aslant: An Anthology of Radical Landscape Poetry. Sundog, a sequence of 60 poems, is due out in 2012. 