Curation texts:

#1 The nuisance of capturing dreams The nuisance of capturing dreams / Britain has slipped thru the sense of itself. You can only see it when you leave it. Like once I went to / this is too grand/ I saw Thracian caves cracked open by centuries of Black Sea earthquakes, golden heat. And this is too grand / but subsidence quakes through the coalfields again. Subsidence flashes new lakes. To forget is primordial, waterborne / remember, and life is tough / the monuments their latest allowance of that. Collection buckets shake with coppers for the disaster monument / a bronze widow saddled with a bruised toddler / a bandstand by a purpose / a whiter shade of pale dissembling brass into its drone / clatters its campaign upon the breeze / from the drought of time that drained its rehearsal emerge hearts which never had to practise / dim efficiencies to hold us like metres of faint poems #2 Wrong things that trouble me since Brexit. Mistakes are sudden, plummet one/ anything goes / knuckles out of numbness for the Poles / on the TV, a party conference calls jobs British / then the American maternity invoice which itemised skin-to-skin contact, post-caesarean, at $39.35 / since drinking daily into / longer happy / longer lucid / longer thinner states / dealing with it, but what can you say that isn’t an itemising? Talking in poetry: the more elegant, the more valuable its print / once familial love in contact is itemised as a new commodity / twice into its poetic apocalypse / at least $39.35 still has corners and sides, at least paper and coin / Invert the transaction: how much pain for the main items of news? Emaciation’s latest ribs / cannulae clogged and powdered with plaster / elbows pinning their last embrace / the bewildered boy in the ambulance bay / the Syria rotating through our bedrooms / life as the awe at no end till some next time still we write

Bryn Tales