Getting It On

In Bocklehampton’s St Eczema’s church, a stained glass window has shed new light on the age-old debate surrounding the nature of Jesus Christ’s relationship with Mary Magdalene. The image captured in the window portrays the couple in an intimate pose, set against a picturesque rural backdrop, seemingly about to embrace.

It has been said that stained glass windows were the “photography of the age,” and it’s entirely possible that JC & MM, while out for a leisurely stroll one hazy Sunday afternoon, stumbled upon a local craftsperson and commissioned the piece as a way to immortalise their cherished memory.

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Checkout Conversation

Asked if I need a bag for my groceries
Sheepishly, I confess that I do
Next question: “Did you find everything you needed?”
Half-heartedly, I report that I had done so
followed impulsively by: “Mission accomplished.”
Which, I immediately regret

The regret shows in my eyes
and the unconscious way in which
I draw inwards my lower lip
Signalling an involuntary slip
A blip
the unfathomable need to extend an answer
beyond a simple “Yes.”

She sees my regret
and remains silent
What did I expect?
A laugh?
A smile?
An amusingly cute riposte?

Her eyes focus on the job in hand
my groceries pass through her hands
transferring them from shopping basket
across a red light scanner
before packing them neatly
into the compostable plastic carrier

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Œuf Vierge

She enters my bubble, sits facing me in this here American diner 
staring straight out across the table, expecting me to recognise and remember

I retain my apparent composure as a power station fuels a search
through the totality of my memory

A brief, sensual smile disappears so fast, I’m not sure it was ever there

Out from shadows, a staff member readied approaches
fingers clasping notebook and pen poised

“An unbroken egg please; not boiled, fried, scrambled nor poached.” My company instructs, delivered matter of fact. “Shell left intact.”

Okay remember, this is New York, thinks the young and intelligent waiter 
I’ll just provide what she wants and laugh to myself about it later

The waiter asks, “A coffee refill, for Sir?”
Expectant, hanging on for an answer

“Yes, he will.” My uninterruptible bubble invader opposite commands 
“Because you like coffee, don’t you?”

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