Monday, April 20, 2009

Featured Poet: Jane Ormerod


Time for an O Sweet Flowery Apology on this, April 20, 2009.

While you are all undoubtedly puffing your [legal tobacco] pipes and are therefore in a good (and hungry [un-chemically stimulated]) mood. Your humble Editor-in-Chief is moving to Iowa City! Yeah, that has derailed my posting for a spell.


We are back on track AND have a *W*I*N*N*E*R to announce! Stay tuned HONESTLY and please enjoy the poetry of Jane Ormerod while you do...

Jane Ormerod was born on the south coast of England and now lives in New York City. She is the author of the chapbook 11 Films (Modern Metrics, 2008) and her work also appears in numerous print and online publications including 21 Stars Review, Arsenic Lobster, BigCityLit, eratio postmodern poetry, failbetter, Ginosko, Night Train, Whatever Literary Journal and the spoken word CD Nashville Invades Manhattan. She is host of the occasional reading/performance series Emotional Rescue at The Cornelia Street Cafe and is a founding editor at Uphook Press. Her website is

A Nightingale Invades

The lid falls off replaces

The lid falls off replaces

Beauty as cure for society’s ills

Child dream murderers fly-driving sailors


Beating out a carpet heart on pumice steps

Horses heavier than anyday fear

Hurdlers replacing heraldists cab rides abundancy

Her ribcage filled with nettles

Lip dash and slash

A change of hair inside her leather yellow bag





Seams below seams between seams below seams

Picric papers Stockings

Yet another wedding ring passed round the room like port

Lanterloos oh oh and double christs with sakes


Don’t sing

Splutter Hide

Savers Coasters Shoe lacers

Mongers coster and scare

The cheapest skates

Wives with hives and junket days away

Painting with marsh mist and a marigold

Painting with flute and three weapons




(With bait in her breath)

Are you interested in Pre-Colombian art?

Do you care about sticks? Do you lie about buffalo?

Stretch of elastic linking tooth and hand

Rolling beads of sweat and glass

A coral sunset choral sunrise whore tales grape hyacinths

Our daily bread delivered by a nude

The lid falls off replaces

Painting with baby in plastic

Painting with sun patches and ghost


The lid falls off replaces

The lid falls off replaces

Her mother spread on crimson icing

A pecan coat faraway lockers neutron spillage

The rich and the gullible and the bed and the kitchen

And the heels and heels and the healing of his hands

The lid falls off replaces

Her adult space in flames

Like a hedgehog Some warm milk or raw sugar

May be all she now needs

The lid a while replaces

The lid a while replaces

Everything dearie round here dearie

Feels just too good dearie dearie

To be true

Go Figure

Light mote variations, mounted warriors

A tetragon, birthday greetings from ‘72

Experimental geese, better later than usual crops

A red barn uncle-inherited but never seen


Long gone fish markets

The very last man smoking … puff puff puff

Why are things so heavy?

The doctors and psychiatrists drinking in the hotel bar

Bladdered, they were

Pissed out their heads, they were

Voices slurring like prescription notes

Stripping to their underpants

One banana, two banana, dirty, dirty, dirty

Remember, remember, the fifth of November

Meanwhile, watch me

The almost adolescent

Right outside their building

Swift-flitting between telephone wires and scaffold poles

Humming and ho-humming on the perfect diameter

To fit inside my own … toot-toot … small feet

Nashville Invades Manhattan

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

Everything tiny as leather

Mild as In-ger-land woah woah woah

Considerable as thought (risible!)

My schedule tight as the neighbour’s dress

Swiss Holiday Inn (wool temptation!)

A hamburger (I think) tigers

I push sticks and stones fifteen hours a day cardboard

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs

My mother floats like a pilot

An eyebrow

Pretty pitt the older pretty pitt the younger

Rows of conifers along an empty race course

Such a fun age, my mother snapped sing sing sing

Yet I would have very much liked

To have been as chatty as Gertrude snippity-snip Stein

Or maybe the goalkeeper I watched on the television news

Serious as a handle bicycle moustache down the hill

Curds wah-hey!

And now kissing occupies me as much as war

And my small tail has grown a little stronger in the city

English mustard is hotter than French German not so sure

I remember trains pencilling through countryside …

This is my brain, this is my brain, this is my brain

Diddley durr, diddley durr, diddley durr

Not the same, not the same

… Hay bale clouds kestrels lifting from overgrown allotments

Superstore car parks punctuation ribs ribbing ribbons

Sleep sheep waiting to be seated or stroked sniffled sniped

Badgers of honour otters de fe decaffeination

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

Tigers are cardboard cut-outs shaped like men

(One more thing I realize…

Having a child

Prevents you

From ever

Cutting your wrists)