She does her dance
I watch--my eyes
Fixed ... on her hips--
Damned moves she makes
Confined to a list
Of the countless
My thoughts, still, kiss
They shiver
They cannot shake
My wings dry
In her eyes
So, I shed my desire--
I ... shed my Power
They lob to fate,
Helium like, and
Fall humbled
And laden
They hit--not wet
Not mine
Not this time
No--Not
This time
Not mine
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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