Tina

Go on, watch me dance, what you do with claims, those who know to prance, have no peace but twist, when they hear your name, red curl to their lips, your broad brimmed hat, jaunty high window shades, white face dark glance, waiters drag unshaven shifts, stamp with wooden Ole’, the size of your tips, you suck on gambas, with a raging fame, shout Basta to the Ramblas, are my legs your gift, you are like the rain, lifts, tiffs, over the hill, will you go away ?

Romy

She measures distance down, a screed of wheat, lonely as a public telephone, she won’t drown in song, luminous as the sea, asks if we’re coming along, we’ll have fun in town, careful as can be, puts the brown bottle down, what better cure is medicine, than an oat cake field, trains trundling to the station, being true she casts around, asks everyone she sees, no refusals she’s a clown, when the friends have gone, her drink is whisky neat, lavender linen and eau de cologne she cannot feel her feet.

Quaila

Am pretty sure of what to do, around your knees, a tattered sheepskin to warm you, when birds thrum the dusk, passion doesn't leave me, the evening smells of musk, I never took you to Vera Cruz, you say I’m not easy, always creating some ballyhoo, a person you couldn’t trust, interesting but unseeing, oh well suppose what's done, but water is not food, its shape is what keeps, admit am an unruly fool, you never wanted fuss, at hospice then infirmary, I’ll look after us, orange fires the trees

Petra

Is there a single bell, for someone’s need, do others have to yell, hanging around like skeletons, with lip sticky greed, faces like rainbow paraffin, standing by the well, say you're a fool to leave, please don’t tell, why I'm not driven, it’s not just the sea, when I listen to shingle, the murder of sea shells, claims my being, between shoreline and swell, makes little difference, sand shifts the shillings, in your eyes a kingdom, you sigh, ‘we’ll see’

Ocean

Worth a night to share, a lighthouse stripes the gloom, they’re frying fish downstairs, from the crashing foam, comes a steady tune, does it warm your toes, when I brought you here, you cried in this room, and told the falling stars, can't you see who I am, love won’t be assumed, mine is no easy home, act like I don’t care, if you dance or swoon, but not with me there, your words cut to bone, split me in the lighted blue, ocean birds fly home. were you ever young ?

Nora

The poetes maudit, you always loved, regard me by your son, you say letters of women, never known who from, litter the earth’s rim, is that all there is, now they’re gone, pages stuck with yellow bits, maybe it’s a dry run, for our evening bond, 'another baby another bun?’ joking I feel the miss, drink something cool and long, like I’ve never listened, what have you begun, to keep me in the garden, birds chatter, bees hum, St Vincent Millay's song.

Mimi

2003 was a big year for me, but lost on the ‘phone, always another reality, my partner Sandra Agnew, the photographer of Nomads, parades in front her news, unashamed in similes, such learning in that zone, images wants me to see, try to learn what to do, don’t boil your bones, searching for a suitable excuse, it doesn't need servility, tell her time’s flown, find a place up the chimney, ride the storm or peruse, her snapshots when she’s gone, it’s not being cruel, I’m a picture at home.