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2 poems by Sam Wilson Fletcher

Updated: Jan 25, 2022


Fried Genghis


Where light’s been known to clatter landwards,

profusions dance in subtle brash to crimes

made flesh. That flank the clasp, then opt instead

for gifts in yellow. (If you could port that colour

from its sorrows, which the credulous are wrought to do

with claws, burst, its certainty creams for days.)

Dances which are picaresque, masking

from inside their faces. And what is dancing really

but a field? The ways that thinking looks when thoughts

are snappy, with freshness wafered through

their stitches. (Some wounds only heal with juice.

So use your wounds. Disband and start in earnest to a craft

unknown, but yet it sails, with name a memory.)


A vicarious elbow or a crowd in arms, will you cry

at the signs? When a clown, and by kind

I don’t mean elf, but she who plays,

who shows her juju and is lauded. Even loved. Who

yes, may darg in doldrums, but in her clast

a truth is snuck. Ployed as an eel, but taught in fibrous fruits.


Were you ever drank in love without wreaths?

Know that love is what your body does

without you? That winding shackles, even automates?

She who knows spoons that glow, then gentles those

who’d otherwise disgorge their spasms. And this

would be that brine, that spell. So breathe the basking

and its flickers, breathe the supine, breathe the alizarin fuse.



The Pearly Queens Of Unsolicited Advice


A life in three richnesses: colour, depth, and connection.

Be they with the early demons, or the pipes and planes

that fold at the spine, where the night-self tides

unending. Or with you, who can see in advance

what these entrails... Will each fresh attempt be eager?

Will our elliptical claims return laden from their voyagings

behind the hidden planet? (Observe its lack of stardom.

Sense its massive drawback.) With no blueprint to give

but the doings, these several traces. The whole crew,

dukes up, with little flowers in their pockets of earth.


__________________


Sam Wilson Fletcher was born in Lewisham. His poems have been published or are forthcoming in the Earthbound Poetry Series, Blackbox Manifold, Tears in the Fence, Magma and elsewhere, including the recent Seren anthology, 100 Poems to Save the Earth. In 2022 he’ll be poet-in-residence on expeditions to Antarctica and the Canadian Arctic.

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