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Two Poems

Leo Temple

For N-B

Selfsame is personalized; an experiment in control-

led conditions, like euphemism or filter (skin is forced by life, and light,

it isn’t an animal, it holds one in); Selfsame is personalized & bodied

in pixels (skin is pixelated by life, and light, it isn’t an animal it holds

 

cigarette like petri-dish; Selfsame occurs on private property (sofa),

in public it would be something else (cf. use of ‘terrorism’ in reportage

of political violence in non v Western locations); Selfsame holds managerial

roles in weightlessness (cf. television, soporific,

                                           as the changedchannel is

                                                                      hung

                                                                  as he is

held, a kite around an old man’s neck, who floats

selfsame,

like silent film, watching him commit the same act he carried

out as a little boy, he asphyxiated flowers, fingers & later

pronouns: ‘a blush is all     separates life from prosthesis

 

         of causation,  his favourite animal,  he said,  was a semblance:

 

         ‘how its two relative bodies hold away from one another.’

 

Social Life in a Residential Home:

Eyes, famous for closure, are desirable: the waterlilies retreat

to their straitflowers & photoreceptors where I’s blossom on

my person (I—lid), unfamilid & I’s like poetic objects &

unlike them later, an online activist peels a slept waterlily

 

& unpeels it later: “In praxis a flower doesn’t sleep; [I’s] object-

[if I] sleep and flower both equally,” eye leave the morning arbor-

really crywanking, blinkered, like a timelapse both foetal & non

literal, my person posts pictures. “[eye] couldn’t be stronger

 

for a virtual presence, the pixels on my navel are downright  

umbilical & still the unflorescent third syllable

in person (a lily held in my person) an orphic stage

of closeyour eyes, alllife is most of a dyed costume,

 

          a profile is becoming  the petals needn’t show the    forever

          time being silly in its 20s,  the PDF of a photograph of a

window.

~

Leo Temple is a poet from Somerset.

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