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Goldsmiths' Official Student Magazine

Poetry – Plateau

December 8, 2013
Writer_Dr. Bill Black The head grows out of my hand chin first. Monsieur Plateau fends off an empty whiteboard with any information at all: his own name, repeated in cursive, while his back is turned, whispering curses   (the comeback seventeen years in the making: ‘So, muh muh muh Monsieur Plateau,how wuh wuh well you…

Writer_Dr. Bill Black

The head grows out of my hand

chin first. Monsieur Plateau

fends off an empty whiteboard

with any information at all:
his own name, repeated in cursive,

while his back is turned, whispering curses

 

(the comeback seventeen years in the making:

‘So, muh muh muh Monsieur Plateau,how wuh wuh well you

have used your own nuh name when thinking of yourself

at middle age, suh suh suh suh salivating!’)

 

just say it again, slowly’

 

his patience implodes like a waterbottle

the tongue swells in my mouth

an airbag erupting at imagined collisions

‘come talk to me after class’

 

He smiles, growing his moustache
over his eroded, thumb-moulded mouth,
growing a few inches shorter.

 

(like a liquid rising down my leg)

 

‘so why don’t you talk good?’

‘My langue is too longue’

‘you mean tongue’

 

The piss glows on the linoleum around me

my soul’s quantity

collected in a sponge.

The subject: Geography