If never seeing or speaking to you again would keep you safe,
I would gouge out my eyes and cut out my tongue.
Desire is ego: the thought of losing one or both of you unspeakable.
Men walk outside my window, laughing as they go; dawn purples.
The windowsill has never looked so clear. When did I last see?
The birds whose names I don't know continue where they left off.
A foetus dangling between thighs oiled with blood as you stand,
Legs open, mouth agape and to the side as you do when you cum.
There are things worse than death - so many, so many.
Why are people so afraid of their own personal end?
As purple gives way to red sky at dawn, shepherds be warned.
A funnel cloud will smash your dreams to shit.
Michael Oliver-Semenov was born in Cardiff, Wales but moved to central Siberia. After
ditching his career as a banking clerk in 1997 he published in a plethora of magazines, anthologies and journals worldwide, including Blown, The Morning Star, Orbis, Ten of the Best, Wales Arts Review, Mandala Review and Ink Sweat and Tears. His memoir Sunbathing in Siberia: a marriage of East and West in Post-Soviet Russia was published by Parthian Books in 2014. His first and last poetry collection is forthcoming by the same publisher.