Don't Stop Until Incinerated by Gary Cummiskey

Don’t Stop Until Incinerated Gary Cummiskey

Don’t Stop Until Incinerated Gary Cummiskey

Some of these poems were previously published on LitNet (South Africa), Loop (Sweden), Incwadi (South Africa), Ppigpenn (USA) and Hash n Pumpkins (India), and in print in Graffiti Kolkata (India) and Durable Goods (USA).

Published by Tearoom Books 2016 Stockholm, Sweden Don’t Stop Until Incinerated © Gary Cummiskey Cover and graphic design by Jenny Kellerman Pillay

Contents Discount...........................................................5 Backpack.........................................................6 Doubt................................................................7 Recipe...............................................................8 Coming out to Bacon............................................9 Key...................................................................10 Colours.............................................................11 Procedure........................................................12 Letter from home...............................................13 No more heroes..................................................15 Hey, Sinclair!......................................................16 The sinking.........................................................17 Araki: 8 poems....................................................18 Insomnia.........................................................22 Hunger...............................................................23 First night...........................................................24 Fishing.................................................................25 Strangers............................................................26 Fest.....................................................................27

Discount I’m thinking of taking a part-time job in a brothel.

I’ll stand at the door and offer to draw portraits of the clients as they enter and again as they leave.

If they buy both, they’ll get a discount.

5

Backpack We have to walk from Joburg to Lusaka.

We don’t have passports or money – just backpacks and bottled water. And we must get there in two days’ time. Why two days, no one knows – no one asks. It’s just the goal that’s set, and we don’t know who set it. There’s no time to lose – just pick up your backpack and move.

6

Doubt It’s true I saw her in the moonlight lifting doubt out from her mouth

7

Recipe Take your favourite book of poems.

Place in an oven dish.

Drizzle (as the menus always say) with olive oil.

Place the dish in the middle of the oven.

Turn to maximum on Grill.

Don’t stop until incinerated.

8

Coming out to Bacon What are you planning to do, suddenly announce to the whole world you’ve turned queer?

He stared hard at the torn face in the mirror.

9

Key Would you like a key?

I can give you a key, then you can throw it away or eat it.

10

Colours Downtown, the colours are gone.

The people are gone.

There are no supermarkets, no cars, no traffic lights, no beggars.

There is only the darkness.

I’m searching for you but can’t remember your name.

11

Procedure You may sit with the deceased You may weep, wail scream, go hysterical with grief and lamentation, even vomit on your choked tears But in all that time you may not touch the deceased until the police have completed their investigation.

12

Letter from home Dear son This morning we woke up to find a croco-­ dile sleeping on one of the children. Luckily we were able to coax it back to the river with a chicken mayonnaise sandwich. It was odd to find a crocodile here in rural England, but the unusual does happen.

The wedding is just four weeks away.

Everyone is busy with arrangements and outfits. Kate is obviously very excited.

I just hope the weather picks up as it is still quite cold. I also hope that the dead don’t make an appearance – your Aunt Lily could get awfully out of hand at these gatherings.

I had a long weekend in Lisbon with five old friends from my time at the abattoir.

13

Some live in Scotland now, some England and one in Australia. So it was wonderful to relive our youth for a few days and even better to have some lovely weather too.

Hot and sunny and we had an apartment right on the beach. We watched a lifeguard strangle a mugger at one point. The rest of the crew are still there, waiting for more action.

Hope the genocide is going well and that it doesn’t entail too much work. Wish I was there to help.

Your loving mom

14

No more heroes An old man goes to a public phone booth, gets in and closes the door tightly behind him. He picks up the receiver and dials a number. It rings and rings but nobody answers, which is just as well, since he has no money. As he puts down the receiver and tries to open the door, he finds it is jammed and he is stuck inside. He waits 10 minutes in silence. Then he takes out a cigarette lighter and sets fire to his coat, trying to get someone’s attention. But as the flames leap higher and engulf him, he realises there are no more heroes. No one will come.

15

Hey, Sinclair!

There is a lost poem

by Sinclair Beiles which when read aloud comes alive and moves like a lawnmower.

You stroll into the next room and lie on the floor naked.

16

The sinking I put my hand in the bath and the water turns black. The doctor caresses my foot as she asks about the mining disaster.

I know nothing about it, I know only about the torpedoed ship, the old ones who drowned and the aborted four-hour epic devoted to the event.

It’s true my name appeared in a book of poetry published in 1936.

17

Araki: 8 poems Matchbox We arrive at the room of the matchbox man “Let’s go in together” No, let me go in alone he doesn’t like strangers I won’t be long Crutch She lies in the street her crutch is beside her she is not in pain she looks like she’s sleeping her head resting on the pavement 18

Empty mattresses There’s not much there just empty mattresses a solitary light and bits of tinfoil It could be the scene of a massacre Do not enter Do not enter you’re looking for trouble they take no prisoners those kids playing wild with fireworks

19

Bruise She covers her cunt with her hand she is shy, she says she hasn’t done this before when she leaves she has a bruise and staggers Masks The children with masks sit on the forklift truck they are silent and do not wave goodbye as their killers take them to school 20

Colours The ground is green and blue except for the thin outline of her body and the red that flows from her Drift The old people wear thick glasses and do not smile as they drift across the city

21

Insomnia It’s 1:25am and this damn insomnia is back again as Tigger vomits on the new wooden floors and I’ve been reading Greek philosophy and I’m envious that Pravasan has seen Patti Smith in Stockholm.

I could use this sleeplessness to catch up on writing in my journal but I’m too distracted and concerned wondering if I will ever get to visit Spain.

22

Hunger I saw you last night in the dream You looked just like your mother except you were fatter, fuller, your face had red blotches, as if you were a drunk, but you still had that look of being constantly hungry for sex.

23

First night It’s cold in here.

Is there a party outside?

I wonder what my sister’s doing?

It’s my first night.

My head is shaved and I’m wearing orange overalls.

It’s cold.

Dark.

No sound.

24

Fishing The jet fighter crashed into the river as fish leapt into our arms and we walked back down the busy high street leaving the jet fighter pilot to drown.

25

Strangers They meet outside the railway station where they kiss and they kiss and they caress and kiss.

She says his name and looks up at him.

He smiles at her ‌ says nothing.

Then they separate and walk on alone like strangers.

26

Fest It’s a shit fest they’re organising – shitting in the shower, the cupboards and on the kitchen floor, frightening the cat and infuriating the landlord, sending his blood pressure rising to alarming levels.

When he finally drops dead of a heart ­attack, they smother his corpse in baked beans and create a symphony out of condoms and kinky folk songs.

27

Gary Cummiskey is a South African poet and publisher living in Johannesburg. He is the editor of Dye Hard Press, which he started in 1994.

Cummiskey is the author of several poetry chapbooks, the most recent being I Remain ­Indoors (Tearoom Books, Stockholm, 2013) and Sky Dreaming (Graffiti Kolkata, India, ­2011).

In 2009, he published Who was Sinclair ­Beiles?, a collection of writings about the South African Beat poet, co-edited with Eva Kowalska. A revised and expanded edition was published in 2014.

Also in 2009, Cummiskey compiled Beauty Came Grovelling Forward, a selection of South African poetry and prose published on the USbased website www.bigbridge.org.

His work has been published in the US, ­India, France, Sweden and Denmark.

Two of his poems have inspired short films.

He contributes artwork to the Tearoom Books blog.

Cummiskey’s debut collection of short fiction, Off-ramp, was a finalist for the Nadine Gordimer Short Story Award in 2014.

He is currently editor of the South African literary journal New Coin, which is published by the Institute for the Study of English in Africa at Rhodes University in Grahamstown.

ALSO BY TEAROOM BOOKS Glumlazi by Pravasan Pillay Knock Knock Jokes Pertaining to Common Human Ailments by Pravasan Pillay Romancing the Dead by Gary Cummiskey Reader Digest: Poetry and Recipes eds.

Pravasan Pillay and Victoria Williams Loop #1, Loop #2 I Remain Indoors by Gary Cummiskey 30 Poems by Pravasan Pillay

Don’t Stop Until Incinerated Gary Cummiskey