The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
Andrew Taylor
The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper By Andrew Taylor
Differentia Press Santa Maria, CA
2|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper By Andrew Taylor Copyright © 2009 All Rights Reserved. Published by Differentia Press Book Design by Felino A. Soriano Cover Image, courtesy of William Fallows
Except for the sole purpose for use in reviews, no portion of this book may be reproduced in any form, without the written permission from the publisher. Differentia Press Santa Maria, CA 93458 submissions@differentiapress.com
Differentia Press Poetic Collections of the │Experimental Spectrum│ differentiapress.com
3|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
Acknowledgements: Some of these poems, or versions of the poems, have appeared or are forthcoming in the following publications: Thirteen Myna Birds, Counterexample Poetics, Full of Crow, Lit Up, Willows Wept Review, Gists and Piths, The Houston Literary Review, Side of Grits, Pages, Neon Highway, Radiant Turnstile, Gloom Cupboard, The Red Ceilings, Shoots and Vines, and Motel 58, and escarp. Grateful thanks to the editors. Thanks to Edge Hill University Poetry and Poetics Research Group, David McNamara, William Fallows, Ursula Hurley, Alan Corkish, Sam Smith, Lara Konesky, Felino Soriano, James Scott, Nik and William and Edna Taylor.
4|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
Table of Contents
She Strokes Bees______________________________________________________________10 Endanger Fencing_____________________________________________________________11 Strummer Telecaster___________________________________________________________12 Dial 9 for an Outside Line______________________________________________________13 Dripping in the House of Memory________________________________________________14 Empty Ring Finger____________________________________________________________15 We Paint While You Sleep______________________________________________________16 Spanish Notes________________________________________________________________17 Tea Box_____________________________________________________________________18 The Dry Ocean_______________________________________________________________19 the third button down is stitched with red thread_____________________________________20 M6 Stafford Services…________________________________________________________21 My own private motorway,…____________________________________________________22 Watford Gap grass…__________________________________________________________23 There is no need for a torch_____________________________________________________24 Lent________________________________________________________________________25 This Land is Reserved for Future Use_____________________________________________26 There are Kites_______________________________________________________________27 Medicine Bottle_______________________________________________________________28 In Heels she feels closer to God__________________________________________________29 Motionless Outtake____________________________________________________________30 Knitbone____________________________________________________________________31 To A Fox II__________________________________________________________________32 Been listening to the Palies have you?_____________________________________________33 Pitching Camp________________________________________________________________34
5|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
For Rachel Smith
6|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
7|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
8|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
9|The Metaphysics of a Vegetarian Supper
She Strokes Bees
She strokes bees they must know of course we do angel mark faded in sunshine beyond the fringe shaded face beneath cap follow the flight of butterflies as they seek buddleia growing on wasteland “What colour are the flowers?” “Black” “No, what colour are the flowers?” “Black” A keen eye spotting planes dots to me On the telephone mast starlings gather are they being fried slowly or is it convenient parking? It gets better every time we meet
10 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Endanger Fencing
A blinding division walk the Brecon Beacons amongst pale horses at Easter creatures caught in traps shot in the back of the head a countryside of carnage from the beginning hotels near Heathrow twenty four hour rolling news a chance to study war how I’d have liked you to walk with me around cities at night drinking whiskey and listening to shock radio like a bad mistake I ponder anonymous scream pilots descend at half mile intervals in a seated night I was unaware that you would wait for me like the ghost ration of a slow light I isolate
11 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Strummer Telecaster
Vini’s guitar fills the house notes scatter like autumn leaves Fidelity in Manchester shopping with my Mother a city on the edge of change Ruth Another Setting her room Linacre Lane beginning of it all guitars and other machines samples of opera singers played in remote Scottish cottages when she left I assumed the position under the coffee table keeping reality at the door space echo guitar cat companion saviours both my country will you ever recover? my heart
12 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Dial 9 for an Outside Line
Across rooftops spire cuts into clear evening sky common edged technology amasses through wires into the chest battery powered 6-10 years shadows fall away fingerprints are left on desks ice melts slowly in an engraved glass flowers sway in the churchyard after dark basement desk holds mementos pacemaker amongst the relics memoirs gather dust space for unrestricted breath low light design studio productiveness dial 9 for an outside line fading of traffic calm at the junction new recordings to add to catalogue roads are flooded passing an impossibility a smell of autumn eroding at last the pressure of summer
13 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Dripping in the House of Memory
In the upstairs kitchen tap drips the one that reminds me of Herbert Huncke and the Chelsea Hotel In Manchester a leak in the roof provides water to be collected in a glass and thought about Hermit white room a House of memory 40 days 40 nights without human contact Even you tramps and beggars Thank you Manchester Everyone needs some help at times even you What’s with the bunny in the window? The nature of mind is clear light There is contact I see the Hermitage at this time of night the laptop screen lights the way to the hermit
14 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Empty Ring Finger
I notice the earrings first the heat makes it look like I’ve a tan She crosses near the prison bass drum doubles its beat city feels like L.A. in August but this is Liverpool in June Is love the size of a shoebox? scratched inside forever etched birds drift away with the tide as night drops temperature remains neon of Hardman Street advertising refreshment come on you can dance I’m waiting with modern modes of communication
15 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
We Paint While You Sleep
Shortest night these long hours a comfort to know while we sleep the furies gather amongst the dunes tide and wind sand against walls of supermarkets yellow neon bright to sea patch of non-illumination a field in North Wales Dawn rising over rocks off the coast those rocks belong to all of us orange sky cracks appear horizon drops into day screech of morning birds all the big trees harbour secrets and twine is washed up on the shore
16 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Spanish Notes
I left DNA behind in Spain skin was shed after dousing with Factor 60 Balcony sat towels set to dry a cat stared through railings while indoors a makeshift kettle boiled master craftsmen at work realizing a long dead architect’s dream Numbers randomized a hidden code dig the guidebooks out! towers of scaffold encased I am reminded of a job unfinished
17 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Tea Box
Marty has grown a bushy beard Jonny says beards are shit (except ZZ Top) and that Kilbey looks like one of his old managers Tunes are ace If she was alive would she read the poems? How about remembering music listened to in the cottage the small details are beginning to fade like a flag tied to a pole too long no longer on the list the name is removed pony tailed girl wears heart shaped earrings
18 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
The Dry Ocean
The room smells of paint easiest days of her life have been spent but here light shifts across a dusty desk in the desert a hare freezes mid-air goal posts tape wrapped cross-bar a horse stops mid-gallop earth tilts canal-side railings guard leaves to concrete in three minutes just radio, tea and dim lights written in blue: melatonin and glasses here lava-lamp like rain patterns scroll across the desk autumn leaves a dry ocean on fresh tarmac
19 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
the third button down is stitched with red thread
It is the finest of details the kind that emerge after careful consideration open the brown paper parcel follow the arc of the rose as it heads towards the snow making an angel of its own a rocking chair comes to rest out the window the shimmer of air as darkness falls defusing light from across the valley
20 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
M6 Stafford Services North twilight mirrored reflection a hint of neon cold walk through carpark for supplies and hot coffee
21 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
My own private motorway, from childhood football after construction to arrival at Wigan homeward bound, clear route past the roundabout town
22 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Watford Gap grass verge through coffee steam, reassurance of traffic noise, knowing we are an hour away - the beauty of the service station
23 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
There is no need for a torch
There is no need for a torch the whiteness of the fields allows the eye to settle spot the amber lights of the horizon through the swirling snow Quite what I’m doing here is almost a mystery walking through the fields to the church on a Winter’s eve Almost medieval this weather though the glow of the pub enticing in its simplicity offers a heightened sense of modernity Returning past the former houses of friends long gone a hint of wood smoke allows for the collection of memories that evaporate through the iced tips of hedgerows
24 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Lent
I hear the planet crying withdraw from use
such Teen Angst
allow for repair a reconstruction of the senses amidst the sunshine there will be showers a blue box of magic tricks modulator synthesis forty days
forty nights
this time of year
forty lines available light
precursor to walking city rivers
skimming pebbles
wish for a clearer way like a leaf circling around the deer shelter and the poppy towering above the tall grass
25 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
This Land is Reserved for Future Use
Alone with the last of the light blue through aged stained glass windows Company glass of amber the tulips are opened fully language of the ordinary recorded in a Wisconsin Cabin listened to and read in a small Victorian garden a visiting family of French people Like the Manchester Hermit solitude reflection can be achieved on a Virgin Pendolino though the South carries its own dangers out of sight and out of mind the golden child offers more than can be expected Come winter and the basket is prepared with fuel draughts a reminder small globe shows the scale We are miniscule and scattered around one part of a tiny island the tree has its desired branch as one leaf falls elsewhere a bud is forming as replacement what about those no longer here do they see the curtains slowly closing? on the wall there is a photograph of my bride signing the register
26 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
There are Kites
on beaches catching the breeze keyboard girl’s chain and artificial sun in the music hall I open the dictionary given to me on my 7th birthday it contains letters from her written in 1986 handwriting distinct it changed before she died almost unrecognisable on the postcard she sent from Llandudno she disguised it and fooled me I thought it would all work out in the end on wet sand somebody has made squares out of pebbles perhaps in remembrance
27 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Medicine Bottle
Not wanting to die without telling or seeing the Star Room red neon over Union Square from a 32nd floor balcony forget little beds I want to lounge luxuriously in cool cotton Don’t drink the medicine The ether will drag you into an Alaskan pipeline of addiction red and white blood and snow evening comforter drifter One minute you are a statue the next a pigeon Always read the label
28 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
In Heels she feels closer to God
She stands hand on hip surveying all below angled towards the northern star Stellar reaction amidst the cables artificiality leg angled strap slung top riding high ‘California’ pink flowers emit the smell of death like lilies surrounded by candles Amongst the detritus of the Lower East Side a vigil where green haired girls compare tattoos and share their drugs until the candles meet their end Hit so hard she sees stars and wishes him alive
29 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Motionless Outtake for Alex
Pylons anchored through the Vale coated during nightfall drips tainted back to earth from the peaks clouds cushion pylons cut a rising grey catch tint of sun up here a stillness reflected in arc of vapour trail
30 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Knitbone
the process needs assessment the liquid is dark green smells of eucalyptus a need to be healed take all the precautions necessary bathe in lavender foam reading and trying to unwind and avoid dreaming of a past involving ocean views at Half Moon Bay city vistas from the 86th floor coffee from Peet's doughnuts from Krispy Kreme a time when the future was bright heat surrounds as pages turn offering a glimpse into the other side of the American Dream I think about writing through the difficulty epically moving this soundtrack
31 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
To A Fox II
Autumn falls lanes drop darkness hedgerows trimmed fields ploughed in preparation Roadside awareness flash of white twilight nocturne image of a moment nice moment actually, dusk was falling, lovely watery sunset which was very enigmatic amongst the overgrown runway strip...... also managed to locate abandoned buildings that formed the old hospital site on the airfield in amongst some woods......very, very scary though. En-route accompanied chatter of engine whistle of rack scratched inside journey reinterpretation Sleek tell-tale signs Unhexed through lanes a darkened memory trimmed hedgerows ploughed fields an escape route
(With thanks to Antony Harding)
32 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Been listening to the Palies have you?
Of course there is absolutely nothing wrong with listening to The Pale Fountains in fact it should be encouraged particularly on hot summer days when the fields sway heavily and the daylight goes on and on reflecting shadows long across motorway verges encouraging shelter 25 years listen on watch midwinter Manhattan a temporary writing room wonder about the futility of holding onto things that should be cast off and thought about differently the pound is worthless against the dollar they are stripping the Chelsea Hotel of its history in an effort to make more money room 211 is partly demolished How clever
33 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
Pitching Camp
Veering on early morning runs to walk in old cemeteries people have lived died and were loved the city is historical artefact seek a local tavern for chowder attempt to fill a notebook page in anticipation the scheme of things inconsequential the smallness of a speck of dust on a railway line or a fly on a cactus a pointer of universality She feels as though her heart is walking around in front of her whereas I feel as though mine is melting
34 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r
35 | T h e M e t a p h y s i c s o f a V e g e t a r i a n S u p p e r