Maureen N. McLane

Orange zinnias. Lettuces bolted,some salvageable. Babiesand teargas on Facebook.Money’s an algorithm.

Someone’s got rhythm.Did iambic pentametermarch along with British soldiers –maybe. I take my

waking slow, click among linksin the morning in bed –is it a cocoon, is it Procrustean –O my modern self too long lefton the shelf with old booksand expired cans of...

all daypersonifying plantsEvil NettleFascist Weed

boing boingI do not want youmatter out of placeI rip you outI favour the desiredthe useful to me to me to me!

meanwhile stars doing themselvesin the skyinsouciant celebrityassholes they don’t carewhy don’t they caredon’t theyCassiopeia angling the skyopen triangles mouths and teethof vanity, griefbut where, where is the beltof...

Everywhere/todaythe irises insistedon waving their blue flags

Hairy tongued thingswith mouthshanging open

as if to fuck the air

O la la la spring& dying

the usual song

            ‘Every flower in a garden/is a sign            of a complete failure’            the landscape designer declared

Why...

From here you used to see the sea.The gulls still palaver the fishing boats still ekeout what they can. At dusk the Eastern Point Lightevery five seconds flashes white,the Dog Bar Light shines occulting red,the Ten Pound Islandevery six seconds blinks isophase red.These are their characteristics.So many beaches reefs and shoalsnamed for woes then woes effacedlike your footprint just now in wet...

A beach where dogs should be leashed but aren’t. Low tide strands the seaweed and two dead seals no one can call to help. There’s no one to call for help. A shore of men’s trash, twine, bits of mooring line, the house of what was once alive no I didn’t per se find my beach! but there was Brace Cove, Niles Beach, Good Harbour, Pavilion Beach if you like the...