Friend Owl
Latin was not taught untold to you, would flutter
in a lyricide to admit your wish for guardianship, as
in edible foams or flowers. Keats was scorned by
stupid Yeats, whose poetry is of no concern to any
fawn, the violence done by Man, your little speech
bucks at the door and is fathomed by none other
indolence. To scorn him is to bet your life on the
masculine ideal of swans, feeding them so much
wonder bread as in Regina Spektor, I loved you for
what length your hair was, first, when we first. Yeats,
a nasty gemini, could not forget sexual experiences in
any hurry. What cataclysms could he invent to lessen
the dread of irrelevance? We only want the best for
you, little one, swaddled in lambswool and
languishing. I too was emotional and drawn to the
nightingale hardcore, waiting red-headed outside
shopping malls and the length of time, a giant fluffy
coat. Endymion of stupid beauty, watched from afar
with my wings brushed and my beady spirituals, the
sweetest narcissi, so gangly and handsome to gather
your sheep in at dawn. I wish for you infinite muesli,
a folly of some melody, no more shame on this family.
We still need to confirm that you are human.
Klarna Police
i’m so scared the video will play after the ad
i want the ad to go on forever
i don’t know anything but the ad
the ad knows me
what i want
where i came from
what i could achieve
the ad is perfectly capable of parental behaviour
in fact, compassion and love are its modus operandi
and what’s more, the ad has ninety-nine lives
to make a study of each one
contemplating the beautiful product
i could never be beautiful enough
Beeloud
What first thought was
humming a smallness of me
inside more care, this cloud incontinence
blotting the land
barb-lipped with metal calligraphy
but they can’t stop me sailing by leafcraft
into your lovely wound, stitched by yellow oxeyes
bleeding the million blackberries picked
by roadsides of Tredinnick
I’m with you, beaming these messages
more bonnie mau, bonnie gloria & fred
the lyrical tailswish of seeing a robin
land hard on my shoulder, delicious
a peanut butter mushroom sandwich
in your stomach the best kept butterflies
our sun resets the other side of something
the ineluctable light hunger of trees
my heart is all the squashed caterpillars
having their last heartbeats really sweetly
listening to the murmur of the self-same
scientific name for hydrangea: hydrangea
indigo is all the rage by the farm called
Break My Neck
imagining your silver birch hollow
very very north
I got snagged on the dangerous hormone
called “gloaming”
in the cognitive distance, rain is foaming blue
ferns are falling all over themselves to see you
Maria Sledmere is an artist and poet based in Glasgow. They are Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Strathclyde and author of books including Cinders (Krupskaya, 2024), An Aura of Plasma Around the Sun (Hem Press, 2023) and Visions & Feed (HVTN Press, 2022).
