Wayne HOLLOWAY-SMITH
(A piece of) LOBSTERS
A SHORT excerpt from
one LONG poem
Part songbook, part elastic melodrama,
Wayne HOLLOWAY-SMITH’s LOBSTERS
is forthcoming from Makina Books...


Preorder a copy direct from the press here ...

three sticks of lipstick
I ate
four buttonsI ate
the smokefrom her red jacket a custard pot
so full of rage it torched
my tiny childhood—a heart beating against the four pillars of the room
from the microwave we had discovered pain
was dielectric and lumpy—tipped into the body
from the outside o lord
did anyone ask for this type of touch

and my body is a group of sudden musicians striking up a tune of longing
they don’t notice our acts as living things becoming objects
the radio is getting hammered now
I am singing myself into dead stuff
I ate
the shadows now the shadowsare retreating imagination is a malady
this is the last time I will write about your leaving:
one life may hide another now she is gone and here I am

like Sellotape trying to hold a river in place

I’m sorry we existed like this
you woke up and were suddenly healed
to talk about the original
hunger was impossible
your hair screwed in tight your scalp fixed to the boneyour mind banged down with
all this love
we sourcedour understanding of the world from our own bodies
Wayne HOLLOWAY-SMITH has published two collections of poetry, ALARUM (Bloodaxe, 2017), a Poetry Book Society Wild Card Choice, and LOVE MINUS LOVE (Bloodaxe, 2020), shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize. He won the National Poetry Competition in 2018.