spores going wild in the tunnels and tubes of veins,

mushrooming into the brain. A polio spider

abseils the drop from the sink to the bath.

Lariam country—this far south to broaden the mind.

Look, learn, rise to the day, throw back the blind:

the blue-green flowers of the meningitis tree,

the two-note singing of the hepatitis bird,

the two-stroke buzz of the tetanus bee.

In a puff of chalk a yellow-fever moth

collides and detonates against the window frame.

Malaria witters and whines in the radio waves.

A warm, diphtherial breeze unsettles the pool.

Three hours behind and two days’ growth—

hey you in the mirror, shaving in soap,

brushing your teeth in duty-free rum and mini-bar coke,

you with the look, you with the face—it’s me, wake up.

THE GOLDEN TODDY

We hunted, swept the planet pole to pole

to capture a glimpse of that rare species.

Through a thermal lens we spotted the shoal,

picked up the trail of nuggety faeces

then tagged the shiniest beast in the pride,

mounted a camera on its gleaming horn,

bolted a microphone into its hide.

A first: toddies aflight, asleep, in spawn …

After months in the field, the broken yolks

had gilded and glazed the presenter’s boots;

the sponsor’s lover wore a precious skull

for a brooch, out-glinting the best boy’s tooth.

Rank bad form. But the creature itself shone,

perched on the clapper-board, the golden one.

BIRTHDAY

Bed. Sheets without sleep, and the first birds.

Dawn at the pace of a yacht.

The first bus, empty, carries its cargo of light

from the depot, like a block of ice.

Dawn when the mind looks out of its nest,

dawn with gold in its teeth.

In the street, a milk-float moves

by throw of the dice,

the mast to the east raises itself

to its full height. Elsewhere

someone’s husband touches someone’s wife.

One day older the planet weeps.

This is the room

where I found you one night,

bent double, poring over

The Universal Home Doctor,

that bible of death, atlas of ill-health:

hand-drawn, colour-coded diagrams of pain,

chromosomal abnormalities explained,

progesterone secretion,

cervical incompetence …

Susan, for God’s sake.

I had to edge towards it,

close the cover with my bare foot.

Dawn when the mind looks out of its nest.

Dawn with gold in its teeth.

From the window I watch

Anubis, upright in black gloves

making a sweep of the earth

under the nameless tree,

pushing through shrubs,

checking the bin for bones or meat

then leaving with a backward glance, in his own time,

crossing the lawn and closing the gate.

THE NIGHT-WATCHMAN

Waking in cold sweat, he thought of the miller

dunking his head in his day’s work

to guard against theft from his precious flour,

sealing every grain and ground in place

with the look in his eye and the twist of his mouth.

Even a finger, licked and dabbed for a taste

would leave a print, a trace. Then thought

of the deep-sea diver or astronaut, home at last,