Sylvie Hill

Thank you, Don’t Come Again (aka Duelity) You arrive just like you come Intruding before the agreed upon Time and time again, you with the upper hand We all sit, fucked, not knowing what just happened. You go like you came Quiet lead up to your exiting When the lover comes in the building Well, […]

I Am Full Of Hang-ups You scared me. Slapped the couch, said: “Yup, it’s time you leave!” And only 18, I remained poised, almost serene Made a call, packed, later that week, Slipped out. Bye Dad. You infuriated me. Acted nonchalant, said: “Too tired to fight, don’t need this, go away!” And only 16, I […]

“No Man, No Love, No Crush (aka Chick With The Big Tits)” That chick with the big tits? Man, she’s pinned you down! You lay flat, prostrated: In London Town. That chick with the big tits? Man, you call that love?! So why lay with all kinds of women? From what do you run? That […]

parting sensuality in DH Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover…

Exhausted It’s not that we do not know how to love It’s not that we suffer dysfunction It’s not that we are obsessed with some It’s simply hard to tread through garbage. The piles of shit that lay at our feet In which we wade knee-deep and daily The piles of crap that make us […]

Lady Was a Lady Laid to Rest With one hand on her heart the other reached out she’s made beautiful on a sardine can that otherwise would be thrown out. Someone’s scraps are another’s treasures and you and me were like garbage pickers just trotting about, scouting, lifting for ourselves, and often for the other. […]

Reflections, this season … Muse: you’re fucking with my chi. It’s a one-way mirror where you’re blocked but I can see you and today I looked, by chance, saw you shot in a rearview mirror – but I had my lady looking glass, YESTERDAY. When did yours go up; does my head in, that’s another […]

It’s settled then. All the electricity floating around parts of this body Sucked into a heaviness by a magnetic reality. All the unbearable lightness of thoughts, feelings flowing Now are condensed into a perfectly shaped: knowing. From America at 2:52 am, years after pouring beer on a post-gig dinner Came the wisdom of a travelling […]

Tweets by @Sylvie_Spoken

Too For You I dreamt we went to Bloomsbury like Sylvie Plath and Ted Hughes! Instead of The Lamb up the road it was Bloomsbury Pub, you choose/you chose. I choked: You asked me when I last had sex I didn’t really care for that! You asked me to point to ‘where was South?’ Your […]