WHY FISHERMEN CAN’T SWIM

Bury me under the wintering sea
call forth storms replete with lightening,
howling with thunder to serenade me
beckon a tsunami, unleash a monolith
to cleanse my soul, set me free

Conjure winds, the breath of eternity
shrieking my epitaph, proclaiming my demise
serve me to the fish, that they may dine on me
voraciously ingesting my flesh and bones
creating a transmogrified legacy

Stand upon the shore, gaze upon immensity
a vast and swollen ocean cradle
rocking my grave endlessly
summon Neptune and entreat this boon
beseech him to whisper my name, lovingly

© Bette O’Callaghan

THE NAKED AND THE DEAD

Kobrinsky, The Naked one, and I, The Dead one have been working together so to while away the hours whilst waiting for someone to answer their phone we have been writing poetry together. Here's the first two of our collaborations.

AUSTIN AUBADE

It feels like a hungover morning
nebulous and clumsy
I need my coffee black
it’s not the drinking…
I’ve been thinking too much
even the smallest bean
an elusive enigma
dripped into a cracked cup
pressed to my bleeding lip
with a kiss like this
nothing could acquiesce
kissing is overrated
I flip my fag into my cup
a broken nicotine dream
a gentle lover’s spoil
a pledge to give up thinking
and drinking… for awhile


© Sarah Kobrinsky & Bette O’Callaghan



POWER HOUR

The querulous grackles
frolic on fronds
as Texas hangs her hat
over the sun
and the cars, buildings,
all the pedestrians
let out a satisfying sigh
time is no longer timorous
it quivers in anticipation
of that orgasmic moment
when we seize the power
and steal away with the hour
abscond to that dark bar
where lovers whisper
over candles and cognac
where you and I can
do the same
two friends from far flung places
powerless together


© Sarah Kobrinsky & Bette O’Callaghan