Gregory Heath: Novelist, Poet & Short Story Writer












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The Ground Floors of Hotels
 
The ground floors of hotels
should be orphanages
so unwanted food
and unwanted love
can be thrown over balconies
and caught by the children.
 
 
 
Adulterers in the Park
 
We shouldn't come here,
distressing nature.
 
Holding hands
on this park bench,
bathed in sunlight,
we look so clean
- holy almost -
but behind us
our deception
casts a shadow,
that darkens the earth
and hurts the flowers.
 




Book signings at the launch of 'The Entire Animal'
theentireanimallaunch.jpg
Derby Waterstone's, 26th July 2006

Faith
 
I pass him his teddy, tuck him in, give him a kiss. I smile. 'What would I do without you, son?' He gives an answer: 'You'd find me.'
 
 
 
 
 
 
Credit notes:
 
"The Ground Floors of Hotels" first published
 in Aesthetica 17, May 2007
 
"Adulterers in the Park" first published
 in Psychopoetica 47, April 2001 
 
 
 
All site content (c) 2007

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From William Blake's Flowers
 
He knew that Alyce would never forgive him. He also knew that her simple love was something he would never find again. Why couldn't he still want it? Had he too come to yearn for something that couldn't be had? Did he, like the sunflower, have some kind of romantic deathwish, so dazzled by the light that he couldn't feel the heat? Ah! sunflower, you only think you want that sweet golden clime! If you could tear your roots from the earth, transcend this plane and meet your god he would burn you up. He would destroy you. This was drunk talk now, of a vengeful god. The whisky talking.