Mark Goodwin

Aromatic Sierra Tejeda, Andalucia

planet-old moun      tain     built now     from aroma
eve     n the scene     ry’s pulled in     to nostril-like

eyes rose     mary sm     eared on my fingerprints is
volatile & sin     uouse sweet stinging threads lime

stone & pine are beautiful     said      sweetest mem
ories of mountains(’) muscles      from youth stretch

through past’s mag      ma hot soft nost      algia light
smells fragmented & possible on the footpath climb

ing & switch backing among box      wood olivillo
rowans thorns white beams flaking pines & stunt

ed ever      green oaks      trees written in three dimen
sions on      to the mountainside like old gods’ alpha

bets      sculpted & dropped      through dim      ension
dreamt like fantasy cryst      all      ising in sunshine

mountain pulling           out illness      my back under my
rucksack is sweat-drenched a me      washing my

self with wet selves      soaked-husk body-shapes wh
iff of in-place my brimmed hat is stained with a

miniature mountain range of my moisture & grease
round my crown I      have leaked      mountain-ness

clonk-rattle of pale pine-sticks beneath my steps I
tread skeleton each      push with each      foot up

collects all      the stench & perfumes of my frame
& ghost to one      moment of motion on      ground

odorous all the Sierra Tejeda rises as      one mass
ive ancient loaf of bread seen      from the rich

tomato & artichoke plain of Zafarraya through
haze grey screes & grey-green trees mottle/stripe

earth upthrust to the sum      mit of Maroma      I am
in this distance un      seen amongst aromas this year

rain has fattened spring ringing      greens yellow
-blooms chime      mountain cherry oregano hedgehog
broom columbine milk vetch mountain crucifer sax
ifrage thyme toadflax lavender      quick lime-juicy

streaks of      lizard between      rocks creamy clusters
of crisp flowers tinsel-rattle a platinum      centipede

curled among neon      -purple petals      glaring &
dappled lime-gravel dry stream-bed where winter’s

waters      present gone      sonic      fragrances of bird
song      robin rock bunting blue rock thrush crag

martin wood      pecker-laugh-hammering      hawk
whistle &      wheesh      -constant of breeze through

pine-needles and a      round cones’ wooden gongs
noise      ghostly blue as The Med far below eroding

Malaga’s coast but not      a back-&-forth wish-hush
of surf      just      one long wish of wind in one      di

rection its freight to      be smelled      annihilating
wrong worlds with bright      weightless solid dark

arrow-mania cloud      -shadows pass across crags
above me and spill      down gorge-walls below      are

truth & nostalgia battling like      bandits & fascists
making a seen      -gleeful (st)ink of laughter I could

laugh pop      a limestone pebble into my      mouth
phero      mone-bread-stone aro      matic nougat of

energy sweat’s      sweet-salt-hiss in my eye-nose um
ber & zing of cru      shed juniper berry between poin

ting finger &      thumb the hum      ming paste of my
coppery human turd spread amongst pine-needles to

dry in the sun      ef      flu via

Rail Move I

worlds      flick you open      wheat fields      worlds in
cinema in cinema worlds      distant pop      lars along

rails of worlds through you close in to gritstone
blocks & blue bricks      window fr      ames flick you

thick      hawthorn-clad em      bankment bulging in
carriages film you open out      to a sm      ear of summer

flood over grass      you are in window frames      in be
yond are six thick      steaming cigarette stubs stick

ing up from an ashtray of power station      is cinema
carriages? cinema window along      grey flick-clat

ter of rail      ings blurring     orange-brick squat pitch
ed-roofed blocks      you are in      gravel piles smashed

ground curled cables wire      scritches flick      you along
sidings      tar-st      icky sleepers stacked like melting Kit

Kats      train frames worlds open out      to thistle-clogged
meadow      you cin      ema     &      an ancient hedgerow’s dis

closures      of three d wooden alphabet obscured by sum
mer’s froth of momentary foli      age train-frames through

world a sudden      black splashing & spray of starlings rails
along you a nearly-neon      green-striped field & glossy

black blobs of plast      ic-wrapped silage you      are in flick
-worlds close in to      a row of dead willows’      white ghost

less bones      train carriages window along      nine back gard
ens      flashed past but each      as distinct & familiar as a

dreamt stranger      cinema film frames through open to      a
river’s smooth seen sound below a hillside cascade      of win

dows roofs & chimneys      you along you in window      close
in to a cut      ting through red cracked rock entangled with pre

-historical smiles of ivy world’s carriages flick rails      deep
close in      to bright inside reflection you      window film cinema

as      a black of tunnel passes your face away from one split
place to a next and you’re gone along frames you are re

placed rails frame you by grazing cows train film flick as black
& white as snow & coal and as small as      jewellery      you a

train      train you      you through

copyright © Mark Goodwin, 2009