Midgard
Week after weary week we walked
surviving on Kendal mint cake and scraps of conversation
waterproofs and shopping lists and late night wine and texts
our armour
until one day we realized
that the horizon we thought we’d been travelling towards
is in fact a serpent
biting its own tail
forever
and much, much closer than we think
Nastrands
There is a hall
that stands far from the sun
Its doors face north
its walls are made from woven snakes
bodies knotted
heads turned inwards
they spit rivers of poison
A cold wind
through the kitchen window
I focus on each breath
as the edge in your voice
begins to sharpen
and the tiled floor under my feet
begins to lurch
I’d steady myself
but I know my hand will rest on
scales
where the bricks should be
Thor
For you I would, joyfully
comb out my mighty beard
ride my goat-drawn chariot
make the sky resound with thunder
For you I would, joyfully
slay giants
devour herds
drain the sea in a single gulp
For you I would joyfully
stride across the hall
outsized, blundering
how I can make you laugh
For you I would, joyfully
battle the ice
the evening shadow creeping around my cup
paint a smile on my face
For you I would, joyfully
wrestle the serpent
that circles the earth
though you and I both know it will destroy me
Alien Buddha Press 