Derek JG Williams

last stand

 

On a dare Lady A

Stuffs the cannonball

Of her fist

Into the squat of

Green's mouth.

Breathing the metallic bite

Of her skinned knuckles,

He’s never

Looked happier.

 

An arbiter of

Light and shadow, Mick

Takes pictures

To commemorate the feat.

Like a diver knifing

Through surf,

He paddles to the

Strange glowing reef

Of spectacle,

Gathering in its brilliance,

Warming to its glow.

[....]

Derek Williams

The only man post-modern

Enough to grind

With Ficus Benjamina,

Moz dances with the potted tree

In the corner.

Shedding his shirt like an

Over-nourished leaf,

He treads the night like a

Synchronized swimmer.

 

Black wine overruns the 

Shallow well of

Most’s lips.

In this city of

Last stands he contorts

Into a cup to

Collect all it will give.

 

[....]

Derek Williams

This is the family

You've chosen.

Slim pipers courting death,

Unjust assassins

Dancing under leviathan

Moons not quite full.

 

In this chirping nest

Of nonsense,

Darkness made a lover

Of desperation.

Heaving baskets of bones

Listen to this sex,

Their hips trying to

Make song

Of its exquisite

Irreparable swinging.

 

[....]

Derek Williams

Not afraid to be wrong

About all

The most important things,

Like where are

My keys, what time is it,

Where do

I go from here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © Derek JG Williams. White Whale Review, issue 1.3