Rona

What a great exchange rate, this party on the sea, a Baltic Ports get away, who cares for her home, she always goes this way, knows what's lost at cabin doors, each day she's at play, the voyage is a feast, sometimes seems like yesterday, how can she ever own, something that dances uncannily, beyond the shipping zones, this life she creates, is living like royalty, her bottle is a freighter, , she sees a dawn fate, in the bars like wooden beasts, men look to hoist sail, will anyone knock or greet ?

Quamra

You say you once adored me, not always in your dreams, but the way i used to be, now you grieve when i'm at home, not just on your schemes,/knees as if i was your whore, you can't still play silly, like the river's spleen, on its way to the sea, look at me i moan, i am not deceased, do you know what i don't, are you looking to achieve, sorrow without release, time to kill your fantasy, a thousand nights i have to retrieve, what is lost with your deem, do i look increased, it's not what it seems.

Quadira

You act like you knew, your carnation hangs but shines, the desert doesn't worry you, we go to meet the writers, my partner almost climbs, wears silk and linen finery, the palm trees are few, but after rain provide, drops of comfort as her due, nothing here to frighten, just the yellow signs, of a poet becoming excited, she wriggles to someone new, her laugh becomes delighted, 'it's no one she exudes', ‘she's really just the crew', 'come and make me wise', powdered with a smile of glue, we sip at lonely wine. at the rails pray, for something better than a headstone, could't stand the shame, from yesterday’s game, the ones off the labour, thunderstorm and showers again like a schooner waits for wind, she let us pause for thought the loss she created, her bottle a freighter, , she knew all our sins, cargo boats making for home, their freight caught, she jolted all our bones, knew where we lived, the Bridge her open shore, how we were as kids, at her party on the Falls, Belfast's steamy closeness, we were all her towers, never made to cowe

Queisha

You dance on stones, say you're in love again, blue baby on your own, public toilets are for the old, no one takes the blame, . only junkies want to atone, they say resist your loan, don't exceed your gains, remember all that you know, moving fast with my 'phone, it helps me explain, how far i need to go, the buzz is mine alone, once it gets to midnight, no one hears you moan, blow me big kisses, from the howling zones, send lightning if you miss, wrap my skin and bones.

Quanita

Waiting for the train, a summers day home late, on methadone you never say, the buzz is mine alone, if it gets to half past eight, no one hears you moan, at the rails pray, for something better than a headstone, could't stand the shame, public toilets are for the old, who will bear the blame, . it's only junkies who atone, from yesterday’s game, Yes, we have to state, this is our brand new face, dinner is still to make, suicide is not child's play, feel my cotton waist, sunlight floods the plain. she made us flower never turning away making our case the loss she created, her bottle a freighter, the ones off the labour, thunderstorm and showers like a schooner waits for wind, she let us pause for thought, she knew all our sins, cargo boats making for home, their freight caught, she jolted all our bones, knew where we lived, the Bridge her open shore, how we were as kids, at her party on the Falls, Belfast's steamy closeness, we were all her towers, never made to cower

Queenie

She made us flower. as if literature our passport, the ones off the lower, like a schooner waits for wind, she let us pause for thought, she knew all our sins, cargo boats making for home, their freight caught, she jolted all our bones, knew where we lived, the Bridge her open shore, how we were as kids, at her party on the Bowery, New York's steamy closeness, we were all her towers, she died as we knew her, listening to Artie Shaw, a thunderstorm then showers, the city our open door. even struggle sedated the trouble you create, a drunk without jokes, crying on the pavement, lost to your ghosts, in a red lipstick fragrance, your bottle is a freighter, including the kitchen sink

Quenata

Do onions and cloves, scare you to blink, who will want your clothes, will parents serve the pasta, is this what they think, a home and child disaster. does your husband moan, drink more drink, bellow Basta down the phone, a warm place forever, not like his bedroom’s pink, or when you're past it, who hasn't felt the drone, of the river’s slink, the ocean in your thoughts, flickering beside your moans, inside you a link, what happens to the soul, when it doesn't sing. even struggle sedated the trouble you create, a drunk without jokes, crying on the pavement, lost to your ghosts, in a red lipstick fragrance, your bottle is a freighter, by sun, moon, your breath, it will bring no ruin, stay close to your friends, including the kitchen sink, houses bought under Kennedy, moving like you wouldn't mind, a sense of ease