First, months

of flash, thud, shudder,

then the wailing...

                            Months,

that's half a young cat's life

I saw a bride splendid in white garments
I saw a woman with one hundred children 
The children plump and firm within her arms,
But some fell down or strangers took and ate them

Dada taught me cards.
Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.
A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.
His big belly like a cannon ball.

Speak kindly to your little boy

And hug him when he cries.

Add kisses, kindness, time and love

Teach him to be wise.

Speak softly to your little girl

I’m a spinning, winning, tripping, zipping, super-sonic ice queen:

See my moon zoom, clock my rocket, watch me splutter tricksy space-steam.

Bring on your shining armour, dude.
I'll be your damsel in distress with attitude.

Now we're up on the edge

and over, on the mountain

with mountains beyond. Behind us,

            in the dark

of the valley, villages are embers

His name is called and there's a pause

just long enough to halt a war

tame timber wolves and trim their claws

hide diamonds in a secret drawer

I am the word juggler.
I juggle the words
like swords.
I slice sense
with poetic license.

He swears on his mother's life he wasn't there.

And if he was there

he swears on his mother's life it wasn't him.

And if it was him