Daniel Bennett – Two Poems



Here we dreamed through the waking hours,
forced alert by jet lag and monstrous snow.
A valentine in sub-zero. Wind burn
or gin blossoms on the C train.
A freeze chased us through Washington Square
into the aisles of the Strand. Brooklyn Bridge

stalked the river like a monster.
Have you ever woken from sleep
into an old movie? Here I saw
dystopian gangs in the subway hoardings
monsters scaling skyscrapers. I still recall
the Sri Lankan taxi driver knocking cricket scores,

back towards me over the Hudson.
It wasn’t always easy. Old lovers
and the paths they’d cut through the city.
Epic drunkenness in Brooklyn, candlelight
capsizing the city with its shadows,
the alcohol fuming in our brains.

Later in Time Square, we fell out,
fell back in, negotiated the corners
(it’s not square) absorbed the night
while a jug band defined the indefatigable city,
like someone pouring a drink down your throat
and it’s delicious and you can never break it off.




falling over us
as galaxies tumble

through spring space,
the dust of it

kissing our eyelids
and cheeks, the park

reclaiming itself
after winter

in a drift of seed:
sinking to the limits

of pathways, floating
into the far city,

slender probes sent out
to spread the message

of our place
in the universe

how we live in peace
with occasional bouts

of debt and weather,
how we persist

through turbulence
and serenity

and how much
I love you.



Daniel Bennett was born in Shropshire, and lives and works in London. His poems have appeared in numerous places, including Caught By The River and The Manchester Review. His first collection West South North, North South East, is published by The High Window Press. You can read more of his work online at https://absenceclub.com.