Iain Britton


Ghettos of Autumn

The priest

tells of the power of leaves

how they storm the ghettos of autumn


like armies

parachuting further.

The person he is
has no distinguishing features
no identifiable tag.

He lives by the sea

covets           the hunter

who shoots from the hip

skins thoughts to the bone
scatters them loosely.

Autumn collects suntraps
           for the burning.

Obsessive-Universal Disorder

Choose which head

which personality is going to be worn


shown off tonight.

Will you take us higher

carry us         closer

                                 speak softly.


to make or break the bones we feed on.

In the yard       the oak
has cracked ribs          torn bark.


takes the strain

and for the moment, the universe

holds onto a pale effulgence.




Ignoring good balance

she swivels               lightly                  on her chair.


I have these

openings in my head


which allow her manoeuvrability        like a bird.




The sun

laps at her skin          her long hair

        then rolls on.


A perversity locks in should I lose too much

too soon


of my own image.


Copyright 2009 Iain Britton

Iain Britton has Poetry recently published or forthcoming in such magazines as Ambit, Agenda, Stand, The Stride Magazine, The Warwick Review, Shadowtrain, Mimesis, Wolf Magazine, Succour, Mimesis, Nthposition, Ouroboros Review, Blackbox Manifold (UK), Harvard Review, Drunken Boat, Slope, Nimrod International, Fulcrum, Bateau Press (US), Poetry NZ and Vallum (Canada). Jacket, Heat, Southerly, Meanjin (Aust).  www.iainbritton.co.nz