In the bed
of a bloke
then ipso facto
you’re in love.
No joke.
No matter how
you muscle-train
your cells are jelly
and recall
ding dong ding dong belly.
*
Rachel McAlpine
passion
Je ne parle pas français
In the light you were kiss coloured
and you smelled of dog daisies
bitter sweet.
Puppies of cloud tumbled
into the carriage.
In the dusk you were softened
to tabby, your edges fluffy.
You mixed me into the air.
Through the bright window
the sky purred.
In the dark your edges
sharpened, hard bird
with lightning beak:
the moon cut you out of the black.
*
Rachel McAlpine
(Title is same as the short story by Katherine Mansfield that inspired this poem.)
On a sunny morning
I dare not show you
how my bitchy poise
contains—and only just—
the giant puppy of my lust.
You would awake
in shocking frost.
You would be kind.
The cage would burst.
So stay asleep
safe in the sun.
Sleep deep.
You’re not the one.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Love song
Your forehead
is the curve
of the world.
Through your eyes
I slide
into a jungle
a tangle
of flying vines
of blood feasts
of jagged cries
of silent
silken steps.
Your blood has the beat of the sea.
It pulls to the pulse of the moon.
If I die
before I lie
with you
rocks will rain
from heaven
on my grave.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Poems in the wild—Rachel McAlpine 