Three Poems by Chris Heath

The Glitch

Overnight, the dial has turned to Autumn. The lucid morning breaks, an effortless dream.
Two scars emboss an all but empty sky, pink tendrils bulge around the curve,
bruised flesh agleam — decorum. A heady day of negatives – no puffed polluting contrails,
no false declining birds. Cars glide a touch above the asphalt, careful not to
disturb. Sunlight: burgeoning, easy-handling and clear. The wind: a trickle, trifle, earful;
now a lover’s secret, then a fallow wave; never gained, there is no loss of trill,
a leaf descends and breaks the will of the reflected canopy. The shade it makes
cannot decide, and flits and fails to stick. Exists, and then does not, and there’s the glitch.
Three black dogs with midnight eyes ascend the hill, no backward glance, towards me.

Unmagick

In my long coat
in a high seat

space between my thumbs
hands loosely clasped

I can blow the air to snow

I hope

before we leave this hole.


Or I hope that I hope

(there’s a disconne
ct to my spells;

they are always
slightly

forced)

crackle non-channel
bad tuning interference

false shaman I am
false man

a coward’s invocations

false power subjugated for a show.


But with your first foot out the door
you catch your virgin snowflake
on your tongue.

And what am I doing?

Speaking in tongues
(not really)

my beard
hair
interference grey crackled now

in the dry spell
of my unmagic
charmless
shifted
driftless adult life
in which I had forgotten
that snowflake game

and I can’t be fucked
to remember it now.

Miscast

Do we miscast a spell, to speak on emptiness,
to take as ordinary nourishment the loss,
the milky loss on every side? The empty word
a steaming black buffalo in the many gaps
of teeth which grow apart, a set of barcode lines,
crooked piano din in a large room of whites.

To take the pieces – knights, bishops, king and pawn –
and pour and pour into the waiting, empty box;
do we allow blank shadows to bowl us along?
Do we rush it? Do we make a journey of stops?


Chris Heath is a freelance writer living in Bath. He holds a BA in English Literature with Philosophy & Creative Writing from the University of Hertfordshire. His pamphlet ’23:58′ is forthcoming in 2019. Tweet him at @larroney

One thought on “Three Poems by Chris Heath

  1. *Nice post. I learn something more challenging on different blogs everyday. It will always be stimulating to read content from other writers and practice a little something from their store. I?d prefer to use some with the content on my blog whether you don?t mind. Natually I?ll give you a link on your web blog. Thanks for sharing.

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