On the subject of 2010

City Girl »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Love,Poems,Romantic,Wedding


Her ambition is killing


Miss Wembley seats out on the six thirty,

Reading of holidays, manicures, pedicures –

perfectly in ironed veil
doing admin in excelsis to the metal rhythms,

and computerised voices directing thoughts and noises
firmly between train and platform.

So making her way by season ticket

up through Maida Vale and the wealthier mezzanines.


Who is she?
Secret, searched for somewhere
On the North Circular,

is she the lark she sometimes says she is?

Just for a moment

while still visible in this setting out and setting in

her wings still visible,

in the rapid, early commuting.

Others noticed but did not say

As they went up and down

And along their way

In their more ordinary migration.

Lake Michigan, Resistance Is Useless »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Poems


Like some infectious carp,

             My bonus out

Ponders the darkening.

             A hundred pound predator,

An inland shark
             Swims towards the great metropolis.

No system should despair

             Nor Michigan resist.

Every good American, booted, on.

             He paid our debts.

Made our borders strong.

             And the greenback,

What you’ll find at Kingdom come.

             If it please the mighty Abraham

In smile-less state

             Opening those holy and beloved gates.

Awesome »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Poems


With something personal

Hand upon receiver

Make this truly awesome.

Die Hard guys laughing and giggling

   To themselves as they ordered pizza.

Who measure this smallest tremble.

Kids raised on Marx and aphrodisia

The same boys (spoilt I think)

    Who broke the campus window

To the hot gates

Every top floor directed –

Ice sculpture of ourselves in victory.

Told to be alert, sensible

As the smirk shifted

To bundled reserves

In mysterious havens –

Correlated lights

For many to swim to.

Make science alchemy

If crazy/others madmen.

We stand in shadows

At times motionless.

   From the depths: Listen. Terror. Kiss.

To those who push back

Who fall but want a piece of us.

Instead we step aside

  To take to the inferno

Where dogs clean their bowls in pure lust

And money is like gold dust

A four minute warning is all you’ve got to join us.


Bank Robbers »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Poems


In a crash of symbols, recessions, jingles

   With all the trappings of failure

In rally between nought and zero

   As rates encourage more mania

Carried away to darker pools and caves

   On the wheels of twelve casinos.

Now in a mass of bleeding liquidity,

   A bladder with too much credit –

Circuits of pipes and plumbing

   Beyond treatment.

What lies there

   A simple domino of taste.

A golden apple.

   A matter not of net but gross.

More than life or death.

   A lifetime spent to blind Greece.

   To guarantee a fortune

Without any benefit.

   Let our villas, though, be saved

To live the way we live.

Happy Valentine »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Love,Poems,Romantic,Wedding


So how about tonight?
Conditions seem somehow right.
You remember the filing cabinet,
Fax machine and stranger blackberry?
Now we have something more agreeable.

To sit alone amid hotels
Indulging ourselves in all those smells;
And when it takes our fancy
Call ourselves Sid and Nancy.

Worry, worry, worry,
Time’s such an absolute bother
Except when rendezvousing
By the nearest railway
Without a need for endless email.

And think of all the gifts –
Silks, bracelets, shifts.
Clothes wrapped in seeming eternity
With shoes of the finest diamante.

Scent of roses and clementine
And diamonds from Tiffany.
‘Come on down then’
Join me on this bed of flowers
To pass each minute and every hour.

Inter-City »

B.H. Fraser

February 12th, 2010.

Filed under 2010,Poems


It is sunrise over Ruislip –

In circles that are ornamental
  So-called by council

Those names are silent and gentle.

An almost light yet

As everywhere,

    The commuter is stirring.

Awakes to thunder (rail to rail in competition).

    A heat to somewhere.

Home organised perfectly –

  Dinner prepared before leaving.

With urgency and haste.

   Gentle, merciful motherings relate.

Returns confused.

  In text,



Shall we dango the fan?  Really?

  Earlier that afternoon,

I took tea and tango.

My red shoes nearly killed him.

They did.

Newer Posts » « Older Posts