Weasel
So Weasel, it has come to this;
to your thighs like tall glasses of milk,
your biscuit hair,
eyes that are like any kind of deep water.
It has come to those coiled, snaking guts
we had when we were younger still -
those balled-up sock guts of an afternoon
stolen back from college.
It has come to the spastic, ticking urges
rising through skin at the simplest
repositioning of your weasel hips,
or the one in twenty-seven kisses
I might land about your mouth,
of the right temperature and diction.
Was I even hungry once for eating?
Were you ever not the end to all fasts?
Funded by Arts Council England, the Faber New Poets programme is an exciting new venture whose aim is to create a culture of support for selected new poets at pre-first collection stage. By offering a tri-partite package of financial assistance, mentorship and pamphlet publication by Faber, the scheme intends to provide care and direction to four talented new stars in 2009, with four similar awards to be made in 2010.
