Richard Zola
country : England


...pitying looks if i told what id like to do...well fuck off if you dont like it...i wouldnt even ask...and if you said what this accept sly bring you tea at a you prepare...say coincidental..look into your want to kiss your collar bone...put a grain of rice there...ask you if youve ever seen the belly of a living fish not in a tank...

if i could find a window
without glass

in a broken wall
amongst stems

a shed 

corrugated sheets lifted
tiles askew

leaning doors

a plum tree
tangled grass

fallen stones

a well
with a roof on 2 poles

those flat purple flowers

a widows dress
hanging from the handle of a pump

beneath the pump
a bucket filled with lace
and eels

id write a letter

72 pages to 

who would read

id write to a nun in dieppe
c/o the little sisters of charity

which nun
sister amelia

id roast a hen
describe to sister amelia the sticks of the fire

212 sticks

dear sister amelia
each stick is different

some apple some pear
some plum

some from a hawthorne hedge

id stand at random intervals
dance in a peculiar manner

id like to see your lips move
your clean nails through beads

id tell her if insects died when the match
where i put the feathers of the hen

would she want a hat of hen feathers
feathers around the crown
a veil

id wear a hat of mud

dear sister amelia

this hat of mud
this hen

this garden

this fire
with no insects burned

a widows dress moves in air
someone has filled a bucket with lace and eels

i dance with hornets

i looked for a window
found it here

theres a thicket beneath the window
i'll sit in there

eat stolen loganberries

away from the howling daisies
and their dinner table bowed with meat

sister amelia
is it time for mass

i love you
i love your feet
though one is twisted from stairs

id love the skin of your neck
on an august afternoon

you at prayer

its time for mass
i smell incense

when you kneel at the altar
bread on your tongue

or in your cell without dust

remember to ask 
if you need a hat of hen feathers

ill climb the plum tree

i nailed my boots to a branch
put the feathers in there

a straw hat

a veil which would lift in moving air

...she'd thought a bird maybe....a fly she didnt think of...

a sill

her turkish bracelet
plaited blue

yellow curtains water stained 
a space between

window partly open
moving air

where is she
she placed the bracelet here

inclined her head
moved left right to see

stood near a door
spoke words into an empty room

through the circle of the bracelet
the grain of wood

a third of the way into the circle
raised wood where a join 

one time 
she placed the bracelet on the bed of a stream

sat amongst stems

small fish 


pass through the blue ring

look up 
see the sails of a windmill in light

now she walks
through the words of others

stops at a stall holds beads

a thrush on the sill
the other side of glass

its shadow darkens the bracelet
she exchanges coins for beads

the thrush flies
the bracelet lightens

she crosses the square
sits on a bench

figures pass

curtains lift fall
touch the bracelet 

a point of light 
travels part of the way around its rim

she walks through the arcade
sits at a table

looks at photographs
buys coffee

she stands walks to a market 
buys fruit

a fly against glass

its shadow on grain
a little left of centre inside the bracelet

light changes

the shadow inside outside the bracelet 
has lengthened

touches the edge of the sill
curves beneath

when she switches a light on

the shadow of the bracelet 
will touch the curtains

...when you make bread...the dough should be covered...left in a warm place to prove....

you open a door of a high cupboard
see no bread

you look i you stand i

what time is it
early day

early day is when bakers

in kabul they bake flat bread
in deep ovens

matzos are flat


in instanbul they sell fish in small loaves
catch cut kill fry the fish
cut a loaf put the fish in there

nearby you can buy fresh cherry juice

if youre buying fresh cherry juice
you can buy fried fish in bread nearby

in sweden they eat hard dry bread

pronounced kanecka brood

more like kanecka brerd

your lips like this

well youd know

and an err sound




i begged bread in germany 
only from houses with a crucifix at the door
or a statue of the virgin mary

in the night knocking at doors
always a woman answered

i stood back not to frighten

one held bread out to me
a gull gripped her hand

lifted her out to sea
she lives on the side of a cliff these days

which town in germany



in yugoslavia
2 soldiers gave me strange hard bread

laughed as i ate
it was difficult to swallow

there were dirt and fingerprints on it

they had guns 

small windmills
where their eyes should have been

i bought russian bread

in khandahar

russian bread is dark sometimes sour


figures spat  
told me to leave

hung my skin from a tree

ive knelt at rails
taken bread on my tongue

held a silver plate beneath the mouths of others

so if bread fell

in greece a man a woman gave bread 

i gave him her chocolate

they took me to their village
where i lived inside a goat

until a feast day and prayer

in london i took bread from large pails
behind a restaurant

there were small fish in there
discussing piety

in turkey
i stole bread from a childs plate

she had yellow hair a blue coat
one finger missing

her father used the finger
to remove meat from between his teeth

when i lived with another
i made bread 

he me copulated daily
like an obsession

4 times 5 times


he made noises when he ate


and when


in wales they eat bread made from seaweed
and soda bread is irish


do you remember in copenhagen

you me giving bread to small birds

they gave us violets

and in holland that storm

running to a cafe
bread fell from your bag

you ran into the road
lightning burned your turkish hat

a crowd gathered 
roasted a hen on the flames


the french buy bread more than once in a day
those long loaves

one time in paris before you me

we need bread


which way shall we go

oh you'll come


did bread ever fall onto a silver plate


which way shall we go

through the park

stop at that place behind the museum
where its dark in day and you me