Issue 6: Rufo Quintavalle

teeth shook and jasmine

my teeth shook      in

my skull  and jasmine

edged           distantly

it was far     and away

the best  we’d known

it           incomparable

afternoon      within a

mediocre year      you

suggested       a picnic

I             stripped off

there & then  celadon

sky      and similar sea

and so much summer

to get   ourselves into

cars         like vultures

circling                like

no tomorrow     as if

no        not   like that

tutors              rather

the learning      curve

or the way    a runner

bean     turns   to grip

and matte paint    on

sun-ladened       walls

while        everywhere

else is         elsewhere

music of       intimate

and            anecdotal

life      stuff         she

screamed            and

screamed            and

no-one came       the

day            advanced

towards its   horrible

end      and anodyne

matter    meant more

and more        honey

suckle              leaves

yellow           and fall

and a tongue     thick

from menthols   dabs

at         dry          lips

Rufo Quintavalle was born in London in 1978 and now lives in Paris where he helps edit the literary magazine, Upstairs at Duroc. He is the author of the chapbook, Make Nothing Happen (Oystercatcher Press, 2009) and is poetry editor for the webzine, nthposition.  He blogs at