Blog

Snapchats of Rain – February 2016

Dave Coates & Ryan Van Winkle

Dave says: The last time I worked with Ryan on a poem was just after I’d had my application to take a PhD at Edinburgh University accepted – this is one of the only poems I’ve written since then. In between all the thesis-writing, review-writing and, y’know, wage labour, the only poems I’ve been able to write are these little haiku-y things. I like how little space they take, how they feel like they could just go on unimpeded forever like wee flowers with deep roots, that they do a bit of shaking off of the old poet-ego thing. Ryan knows how to give those wee herbs a heartbeat. Cheers pal.x

Snapchats of Rain

in the daily puzzle
we hustle our edges
we build a story

*

this chest, this mind was yanked out
not exactly wanting to go

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you live a hundred deaths a day, she says – grass,
birds, your mother –
you only get one of your own –

*

so much life is departure
even standing still, ghosts arrive

*

like teeth, she says, take care
of what god gave you

*

fire in the water and
the water was warm
as a stubborn calf in june

*

bring me my timeline of quiet
bring me snapchats of rain
dear friend, whither now our filters?

*

i take a picture, i make a fire
with my own two hands
wood finding use, again

*

accidents of feet and knees
this door, this path, this rain, this wind.

*

all this business about yesterday
when there’s still fuel in the tank

*

don’t be afraid, he said.
He said, here’s how to stay
permanently surprised.

*

And here’s how to shiver
here’s how to get cold

*

seagull feathers at the church door
a little heap of antlers

*

there’s a little space left
between two well-loved
books. a many-hearted shelf

*

there’s a little piece
waiting to be placed