Author Archives: perfectsublimemasters

Phase

Starting at the back of night they crawled forward chanting all the names for death they could pronounce within a single phase of a constantly changing moon Alan Catlin has published dozens of chapbooks and full-length books. His most recent … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Family Life

Refrigerator doors are closed coffins containing spare bones of all those empty houses once lived in during better, festive years blood relations remained nearby forever Alan Catlin has published dozens of chapbooks and full-length books. His most recent full-length book … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

The World Within the Lines

Blackberries are bugged. Raw fish is dangerous, outside Japan. Life is dangerous, outside Japan. Bare feet carry disease. Case study: Africa. Beach feet pollute the company car. Back garden tennis threatens harmonious living. Christmas wrapping is binned, on opening. Dishes … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

When You’re A Boy

holidays aren’t made for staying home. Legs ache to run, make footballs fly into open goals— even when it snows. Fingers roll marbles like big cats’ eyes, and feet and bikes never stop growing. Brothers are too big or too … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

Sorting out

I see the loft as an elevated burial ground. There is as much of her up there, as we placed in the earth – if not more. Photos, clothes, books, notebooks, diaries. Lots and lots of diaries. I wonder why … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Home is where the food is

The flat has not yet lost its showroom feel. The walls are too white, and the sides too bare to be called homely. Her key lets her in to where the lights are off and nothing is cooking. Looking in the fridge, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Advertisement for a Poem

This is going to be precisely the sort of poem you relish most. The subject will be one dear to your heart, the diction not merely memorable but downright non-biodegradable. Like a tightrope walker avoiding the abyss on either side, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment