Tyberius Larking



Tell Me Like You Mean It 7

Image by Angélique Moseley When briefing commissioned poets on what I imagined this volume of Tell Me Like You Mean It to embody, I eagerly told them to simply ‘tell me like you mean it’. I didn’t care if it …

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Character Shift

I agreed to preserve your double life That requires At family dinners I check with you Before responding Homo-speak is a medical mystery The fluent suffer insidious onset suffer without suffering Your grandma’s brain has dropped lobes and therefore volume …

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Gender and Abject Horror: The Poetic Self

I recently woke to clothes and sheets drenched in blood. The sun, squeamish, kept its distance as I stripped off and showered. Outside, a glutinous rain fell disinfecting the streets; the bins begged and pleaded; have mercy on us. My periods have been heavy all my life though, until then, I hadn’t bled so profusely in years.

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Tell Me Like You Mean It 6

Once, I was sitting in my therapist’s office, and she asked me the question ‘Why do you write poetry?’ It’s a very good question; one with many answers, half of which I couldn’t articulate here. I responded to her with something like, ‘It helps me to understand my internal environment.’

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Repatriate

This morning the moon and her hands were dry as sea-glass she held them firm over my mouth and it was a kind of muzzle in the kind of rain that knows your postcode that smells how the piano smells …

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