by Adelle Stripe

I listen to you
tap tap tap
on an underweight keyboard
gain some kind of comfort
from the rhythm
and your cough.
Outside the snow is falling
like moths burned by
a nitrate moon
and silence envelops
these once busy streets,
footsteps are cushioned
in the ginnel of dust
where the pink reflected halogen glow
is the tone of my cheeks
just half an hour ago.
“You Don’t Know Jesus”
plays a codeine drone
from the speakers downstairs
somnolence drifting up through the air,
condensation in fuzz guitar notes.
I open the window,
hang my legs off the sill,
let the snowflakes collect
on my Clara Bow lips; soft and sweet
I dream of vanilla
and listen to you
tap tap tap
on an underweight keyboard
on this February night
under stoned
Titian clouds.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  Adelle Stripe is a founding member of the Brutalist Poets and lives in Mytholmroyd, West Yorkshire. Her writing has appeared in Mineshaft, Chiron Review, and PEARL. She has released three poetry collections on Blackheath Books, and won Poetry Book of the Year 2009 at the 3:AM Magazine Awards. A new collection, Dark Corners of the Land, is due for publication in December 2012.

“Quietism” appears, along with other poetry by Adelle Stripe, in the Silver Birch Press release Silver: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry and Prose – a collection of writing from 62 authors that centers around a “silver” theme. The 240-page book is available in paperback and Kindle versions at