Kate Lilley - Poetryetc Featured Poet - Series 3, #12
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My work is interested in the tropism of affect, rhetoric, genre, sex;
problematics of identification and classification; conjunctures of writing
and reading.
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Anamorphosis
For starters it's vexatious
a meritocracy
you might look like her
she might look like me
undulating brunette fixation
melting depositary
backyard wreck and salvage
mount of piety
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Tender
You promised the trip would enthrall me
like a sexually liberated cousin recto verso
decency comes forward
a museum of sorts
the adroit prospect stalls
retrieval of buxom ephemera
misdemeanours vie in the channels of noise
my assignment thorough disgrace
daily usage hastens
beauty's senseless dewpoint
I'll flip you for the password sorrowfully
as if I were the Queen of Sweden newly minted
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Georgic
The waterfall attracts its share of losers.
Nearby flowers recite past favourites unselfconsciously,
bowing their heads to the grass as the mercury falls.
Jocund and lowing abreact,
whistling charms the furrows.
The aesthetics of picnics gather parks
and trays embossed with birds and branches.
Lunch is served in the royal enclosure
by costumed swains and youths glad of the work.
Dishevelled planets grow up in arrears
and shed their light like imported brocade
used in the manufacture of evening bags.
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As Is
Lonely stairway not so long ago
a raincoat's floral lining
local girls trying seconds and samples
no exchange or refund
chiasmus of symptom and side effect
flooding chemical debris
strophe and antistrophe in the garment district
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Finally
quarto doesn't last a weak crush lingers
like a festival of moss
the clerk of all passports takes me round
for a drink at a popular nightspot
I hear the voice-over from the start of Dirty Dancing
playing in the lounge and feel sedate
sedated
like one more krispy kreme would set me up for life
if it's not one thing it's another
if it's not your fault it's irrelevant
either way keep it sober
and sweet like some perpetual valentine
I read your letter o'er again
it says what it doesn't say
for so long I've wanted you to be my pretty queen
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Crime of Passion
The frame can't contain the enormity
of Lana Turner's chiselled head,
all that agitated recollection
colliding with the bliss of technicolour
in a series of lurid flashbacks.
According to you, a pathological liar,
the letter of apology is in the mail
with an autographed studio portrait.
Just as every drunk has a manuscript,
unlimited emotions need chemical assistance
to achieve a plateau of friendliness.
Don't save your décolletage for a gala,
don't wait up in a palatial home.
Blushing can be a mark of respect
but in this case I was past caring.
Anyone can get trigger-happy
with the right cocktail of provocation.
The body lands at the foot of the stairs
and inspires a Continental sojourn
with time-lapse photography and painted scenes
better than a ticket to the opera.
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Hobohemia
As I brushed your arm and walked so close to you
I imagined meeting up with the author
of the classic statement on dance halls
When I asked about his research into bachelor communities
he answered interminably
Linda likes 36 boys 29 like her
the rest don't care for old time feeling
whipped preferably pussy anything
liberal touches of baby powder
just because I'm lonesome
You'll settle down some day and find I've gone away
all the fortune cookies equally cheerless
if you're passing by the doctor wants your blood
in exchange for a little morphine
it's not cheating just common sense
Birds start warbling bright and early
yonder a crash on the highway
I can't help it if the journey seems unreal
sure as I'm sitting here
the burden of the refrain will fall on me
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French Open
Request permission to shoot
the diamonds, the disasters.
The scene is changing by the minute.
Patio dining is a joke.
Paris clay is cruel.
No replays for you, nothing.
I'm going to leave you my coupons.
Shock, disgust, you know.
The waxworks are pricey but worth it.
What at first I thought was your home
was the garage and nothing special.
The big house is strictly off-limits.
Though the opening drags I stay
awake enjoying the tidal
wave of boredom and later
fondling her elegant breasts
genre grinds to a halt,
heedless of consequence.
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In the Sun
Talk as long as you like,
the x-ray believes my story
is an anagram of yours.
I can put out the welcome mat
and sweep the dust away,
a storm of inference.
Let's be neoplatonic about it
and calculate our chances
for mutual admiration.
There's foreplay before the foreplay
and a backup of the backup.
I asked you here for a reason.
We made a verbal agreement
not to reproach ourselves
in the corner of a gentleman's club.
Then I told you of my suspicion
that fate had abandoned me
and wronged my station in life.
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Formes Frustes
The two halves of a face should stay together
crying like doing the washing constantly
eventually they'll tire of the story of lithium
and give up on the miracles of science
a modest rebate can soften a penchant for mourning
a building aspires to a sympathetic name
the fact that the queue's not moving
means less to you than the shape of old addresses
the numbers of buses you used to ride
there's every size and style of milk in the fridge
a rapid heartbeat is fear or might as well be
I'm three drinks behind my demented twin
and three ahead of the tab sorry and then some
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Quality Control
Formidable or freaked-out
make up your mind on the honeymoon
a turban creates a sense of occasion
over the holiday weekend
shop-soiled like a melamine tabletop
a sale beats breach of promise
the working bee will reconvene
for an impromptu quiz
I'll supply the transcript
of a feud on the factory floor
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Doctors smoke for pleasure
Doctors smoke for pleasure like everyone else
a gifted chassis lapsing into taste
busy accents cheapen off the rack
preamble loses mateship: bulk remorse
a gifted chassis lapsing into taste
when I see her in the past I mean imperfect
preamble loses mateship: bulk remorse
young designs for swift evacuation
when I see her in the past I mean imperfect
dresscodes rule the shadow public sphere
young designs for swift evacuation
simple when your threshold was my library
dresscodes rule the shadow public sphere
while libertines enjoy fraternity
simple when your threshold was my library
ornate to the point of infamy
while libertines enjoy fraternity
doctors smoke for pleasure like everyone else
ornate to the point of infamy
busy accents cheapen off the rack
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Screen
Take the road she took see where it goes
the strangest house on the block still stands
the little girl in the leaves is the love of my life
each blade of grass wrapped in gauze
commits our future happiness to memory
All this alleged wishing to be lucky
if you can't squander talent well what can you do
with this stack of change in your pocket
catastrophes can't be predicted only named in advance
everything means more than enough
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Kate Lilley b.1960 teaches feminist literary history and theory at the
University of Sydney, specializing in early modern women's writing, modern
poetry and queer studies. Her publications include Margaret Cavendish's
Blazing World [1666] (Penguin Classics); book chapters on 17c women's elegy,
utopian writing and georgic verse epistle; articles on John Tranter and
Language Poetry. Her first collection, Versary, is forthcoming from Salt.
Individual poems: Jacket Magazine: Anamorphosis, Georgic, As Is, Finally, French Open and Quality Control ; Salt: Tender; Atlanta Review: Screen.
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