Curate contemplations

Here is a video of the poem 'katherine' from the other tongues collection: Or watch it at YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONofI8ffQU8 The text itself: katherine we’re making lunch in front of the telly but you’d rather pick up bits of potato peel from off the carpet not the least bit interested in stirring you look at me with a rim of blue fluff round your pink lips scowling hard wriggling your other hand from out between my grip and the wooden spoon which i think is fair enough except when i come back from the loo the saucepan is upside down and corn beef hash is splodged all over the floor a grin spread across your face and i wonder to myself would an eighteen month year old do that? as that’s how old the doctor says your mind is even though we celebrated your body’s twenty first year last week when you sat in your party dress in exactly the same spot hearing only la l- la la la la la l- la la la la la l- la la la la la ……. la l- la la l a la because there a

first on court our breath is a fine spray in the freezing air slapping my thighs red as we warm up to the metronomic pop of the ball against tightened strings going tic - toc - tic - toc - tic till I’m the one who fires it out of play and even then he pings it back chasing down every ball like our yellow dog careering into the river after another wayward throw that should’ve been left to drown halfway through we stop by the umpire’s chair and I gulp icy lumps of water ignoring him as he shows me how to carve the air in perfect s-shapes the floodlight dancing lambent in a shock of dandelion hair then in the final rally I play a backhand slice that’s dropping short he charges to the net and stays crouching poised to volley as his lower abdomen flexes up and down the way a wasp prepares to sting not expecting my topspin forehand which he turns to see just skim the line and back to me with both arms stretching high in joy his racket clattering to the floor as if nothing could have pleased