Tuesday, December 14, 2010

New Poetry by Stuart Barnes









THE HAIRCUT

I like men
I like the masculine
- Peggy Lee

It's not the mirror I 
     despise 

but the mist as 
hard as a fist against
my face, the Freddy 
Krueger fingers, 
the concatenation of
florid adjectives, the
peroxide highlights,
O drug-fucked slut,
Ricardo, François, Shai.



- Stuart Barnes 2010




GRIEF’S

livid as the Führer’s flag, not sheepy-woolly grey.
Appalling, like the gorgons, a pall that smokes
the living, the dripping never expunged from the
Christmas china. Melbourne’s inclement weather,
a pail of tar, a shock of feathers, prevailed since
his positive diagnosis. Her blinded emerald eye,
their broken bones not knitted, enough to twist
this corkscrew through the Arctic, Hades’ gates.
The vacuum, black, in which no man survives.


- Stuart Barnes 2010

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

The more I read by Stuart, the more I find to admire in his work. Since I have had the pleasure of accepting some of his work for publication, I have been looking around for more, and I have plans, at some point, of working on a decent study of his published work.

Thank you!

Stuart Barnes said...

hi p, thanks :) s