Chris Hemingway – three poems

The Digital Diceman

My phone has unpredictive text
and I go with the flow.

Each day is an adventure.
Every update is pulled from a brantub.
Every answer sits on a fortune wheel.

I’ve had marriage proposals,
And received injunctions,
sometimes within the same day.
Libel lawyers invite me
to fundraising dinners.
I’m now an MEP.

The phone company
keep offering me replacements,
(apparently there is such a thing
as bad publicity).
But I couldn’t accept.
It knows me better
than I know myself.


In a Doo-wop Night

Caught in a mirror,
Johnny stalks the pool table
in shortening circles.
Light catches candles
in the chapel window.
Somewhere there is satin.

Kohl smudges on screenprint pillows.
Terri’s face pressed against the window.
Miles apart, held in splitscreen.
It’s raining, both sides of the town.

Bass, tenor, syncopated,
she straightens the sleeves.
Though he still sings
“What Kind of Fool am I?”
I guess she always knew.


Unmapped

An orbit, as December ends,
the cloud cover parts to show
brief ersatz stars,
cheers of celebration (and relief).
Circling the globe,
midnight by midnight.

365, 366, a point.
Unfixed, uncharted.
It’s not rocket science,
it’s better than that.


Chris Hemingway is a poet and singer-songwriter from Cheltenham. He’s self-published two collections, The Future (2016) and Cigarettes and Daffodils (2012) and his work has appeared in The Stares Nest, Three Drops from a Cauldron and Lunar Poetry amongst others. Chris helps with the running of the Cheltenham Poetry Festival, and he’s read at both the Poetry and Literature Festivals in Cheltenham.

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