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J A C K E T  # 5
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Kate Lilley :
four poems 

Precision-timed explosions create
acres of visual illusion.
I was hoping to reproduce the mood
      of a brawl on the Champs Elysée.

Weirder evidence surfaces,
formal and somewhat see-through.
I had no idea how complicated
      lingerie could be.
The other woman's pubic hair
is the sentimental favourite.
Instead of making yourself a nuisance
      pass the finger food.
You don't need an invitation to leave.
You don't need a PhD.

quarto doesn't last a weak crush lingers
      like a festival of moss
the clerk of all passports takes me round
for a drink at a popular nightspot
I hear the voice-over from the start of Dirty Dancing
playing in the lounge and feel sedate
      like one more krispy kreme would set me up for life
if it's not one thing it's another
      if it's not your fault it's irrelevant
either way keep it sober
and sweet like some perpetual valentine
I read your letter o'er again
      it says what it doesn't say
for so long I've wanted you to be my pretty queen

      In the Sun
request permission to shoot
the diamonds, the disasters
the scene is changing by the minute
patio dining is a joke
Paris clay is cruel
no replays for you, nothing
I'm going to leave you my coupons
shock, disgust, you know
the waxworks are pricey but worth it
what at first I thought was your home
was the garage and nothing special
just a place to relax, make out
the big house is strictly off-limits
but the daughter climbs out the window
and roams the grounds at night
though the opening drags I stay
awake enjoying the tidal
wave of boredom and later
fondling her elegant breasts
genre grinds to a halt
heedless of consequence

a batch of defective miniatures
wet'n'dry shitloads of themed anthologies
the going rate for scribal publication
an imaginary critics' circle
collates the known variants and picks up the tab
when hospitality goes wrong
the lodgings have no charm and no bar
the mistress of cheap rooms is punctual to a fault
topos of excessive suffering and detail
patron of the afternoon in a tailored costume
the conduct books have a word for it
sprezzatura of the feminine vernacular

Kate Lilley teaches at the University of Sydney, Australia. You can read her response to Bob Perelman's "The Marginalization of Poetry" in Jacket # 2, at  
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