The Hard Taskmaster
Christopher Barnes, UK
Another Mata Hari unriddles.
Behind my back
she is fandango, love-in-idleness,
and pillow.
I break my way, don’t swivel
- skeeter through turnpikes
mangled into bash-hammering rain,
eyes trickling, fingers ice in pockets.
I shoulder-shrug away
the reflection
of the chocolate-flowing hair.
from the Spooks poems
