KICKING PROSE
poems
Jay Slayton-Joslin
Copyright © 2014 by Jay Slayton-Joslin
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[email protected] Musings of a Beautiful Girl
in a Spanish Town
Language may try to break
us apart
yet walking through this rural Spanish Villa
I tried to look at churches
castles
culture, but cannot focus on anything else because
Secrecy would never die, for fools would try
to translate, for if your looks withered like
the flowers on the villa walls then we have
a language each but never one together
So what if you squeak when you yawn
scratch my back when we lay
want to spend a day in the sun
and we eat out and I pay
For we have the set up for perfection
and I have ruined said things before like
crushing a glass in hand
and out of fear I cannot say hello
olla
not for fear of refusal
but for fear it would go right
Moral Come Down
We may think things that we have done
will haunt
us, yet lest we forget that no old man
other than those who have cheated, robbed
or been to war
sat down and counted their regrets
but always said
I wish I’d done more
And if things were meant to run for a week
but run for a day longer
then let them run these extra few days
for a zebra may count those extra few steps
and cherish them
before it is eaten by a lion
So when we regret let us wait days till time
and if then we say no,
I regret,
then we don’t do them again
what is next?
Absence
Dear lecturer,
I am sorry I can’t
make it in today but
no earthly man should be up for 11 am
I apologies for my absence but my
antidepressants are not
working
and I was never prescribed beta
blockers
And every time I go into class my heart
beats so fast
it feels like a coyote
is chasing it across an unnatural plain
Oh, I’ve also slept with some
of the girls in the class too
we shared everything physically
and nothing emotionally
so we avoid glances and pray we do
not discuss
and I’ve tried with most, too – lord
knows I’ve tried
But I hope I feel better next week
and see you maybe there
I Remember You
Doesn’t matter if in darkness
or light of day surrounded by others
I get lonely
and I think of you
and in the same way a curtain blocks the light
I stop to care about what’s around
me and think of
playing in the ocean
the sex good sex
the moments of sheer honesty
and that look on your face when you think no-one is
watching
and I bore myself open
and showed a map of my mind to my heart
which few people have ever glimpsed
let alone seen
So my question is
do you ever get lonely too
and if you do
do you think of me?
The Nine Grand
Education Fees Foxtrot
What if the writers, artists, doctor and scientists
slept on the streets
to pursue their craft
and show dedication
because, it’s what they were born to do
yeah, born to watch films and discuss,
comma placements.
throw false academia under
the bridge
and put the homeless in our private accommodation
so they can get a job and pay taxes,
that we can be given by the government
to learn, about types of soil
and I’m the worst of them all
because I live for four years free
watching movies and spending
eight hours in class a week
thinking what to
watch
next.
Lighthouse
My life could never be a lighthouse
because I cannot always be tall
I crawl underground in my sadness
so far yet never found the cause
the upkeep is too much for one
they would say
you expect me to eat here, to sleep?
there’s too much work to be done
and I am a man who enjoys pleasure
not kindling it out of murky air
How can I beckon others to safety
when I am crashing in the rocks
that they are unaware of?
Did I say don’t be like me?
If I was staring out into darkness
round and round like a siren
and for others I was the only glimpse of land
they would rather be at sea
The Einstein Blues
When you want time to stop it never
does
I think it’s called relativity
but the terror of relativity is it
assumes the familiar
it nags at you like a dimensional parasite
and when you want time to go it
makes you stop and buy a ticket for your happiness
so the lesson I’ve learned is
ask for nothing and just wait
and maybe read a book or think about
the world
but not for too long
because that impartial in between
is how it gets you, and if you can trick it
than do
because it will always trick you
Visions of Codeine
Dean said he had codeine from the head
injuries
and I wanted to dance and take them
all
and drift into darkness
have an angel reach out and prove me wrong about god
and the angel will say “you tried”
and I’d look back and then look at the angel
in his beautiful baby blues and say
“but did I really?”
English Masculinities
What does it mean to be masculine
to be a man?
I fuck women
I drink my coffee black
and I have a cock
and right there the list burns into midnight
and I look at men and think I am not one
of you
I look at women and think
I just want to be with you
so I walk to no destination
see faces I never familiarize with
and if there is ever a street light of hope
I stand underneath it
<
br /> look up at it
let it glimmer, flicker, diminish.
For All The (Potential)
Broken Hearts
For all the lovers I tried for
I apologize for not being the man
I should have been
for not saying how beautiful you look
for not sweeping you up
but instead
passively looking
and romanticizing a life
and not flexing the seduction muscles that I have.
for looking you up online
and not acting on my impulse
I walk on and only promise
that next time I will be Casanova, Valmont
I will try
The 3am Thoughts
Jay Slayton-Joslin is an English writer from the London suburb of Beaconsfield, England. He has work published online and in print, in journals such as Blink Ink, Solarcide and Leodegraunce. His writing has been anthologized in the anthologies In Search Of A City: Los Angeles In 1,000 Words, The Tobacco-Stained Sky and Flash Me! The Sinthology. He is currently studying American Literature with Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia. Kicking Prose is his first book.