Primary School

When I was seven I learned that
There is no addition
Only subtraction
There is no multiplication
Only division
There is no plus
Only minus

I learned it well
From a cunning teacher
Who was simple and hard

There is less and less
And there will always be less

In the end there is nothing and no one
Not even one

I cannot own
Anything that will be taken away

I can only subtract
And divide
What remains

So, forget Quito
Forget Jakki
You never had them

My infinity will have to be
A little smaller
Than yours.

The Buckle in My Eye

Don't disturb me
I am busy sawing
These wounded words
That are stacked before me

Lying in a pile
With a little moss.
Damp in the morning sun
Healthy and sweating
I work with my body
Hunched over wood
My thoughts are tightly curled

Fury must learn
To flow from
The mountain to the valley
Until it is slow and fat
And empties into the mouth
Of the sun

While there is light
Disturbed light
There is work to be done

This could take a while
I saw
I saw

I need wood
For the fire tonight

Here at the edge of the forest
The birds are dancing in the tangled trees

But you don't know
How cold it gets at night
With no electricity
No wife
Frost licks my toes

I must work while there is light
Because there is nothing beneath me
I am blind
But I can feel the sun.
I saw
I saw
It falls way
You left me a long time ago, but night will never leave me
It takes its time, certain and slow.

^

Biography

I am currently a disgruntled PhD student in the Department of Physiology, Trinity College Dublin; but I hope to be living and writing in Bolivia very soon.