top of page

9 Feb 2024



New Moon


Feb 24th

after the film
๐‘”โ„Ž๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘ก

Jan 25th

                  as swayze & his faceful of feelings ascend into retina-scarring

   eighties elysium / the police swoop in / find demi & whoopi trembling

   in the loft / next to carl / with that huge shard of window in him /

   cuff them both

                                swayze spends most days questioning / why he went

   to heaven / when he basically killed willie / god says donโ€™t think about

   it so much / but it nags him anyway / puts him off his shot / when

   playing ghost golf

                                                                the nuns never cash the cheque /

   assume itโ€™s a bad joke / it goes through / the wash in a wimple

                                                                            demiโ€™s therapist says sheโ€™s

   regressing / spends sunsets on windowsills / one leg dangling /

   over the city / humming unchained / melody wishing theyโ€™d picked /

   literally any other song

                                                                            whoopi slinks back to her

   apartment / counts the green / squashed beneath her tattered

   mattress / lighter since she put up bail / some nights she wakes /

   the taste of demiโ€™s florida peach lipgloss / teasing her tongue /

   wonders if sheโ€™ll call

Behind the poem...

Before eventually watching Ghost, all I knew of it was its iconic combination of pottery, The Righteous Brothers and Patrick Swayze. What struck me, seeing it for the first time in 2020, was its absolute refusal to stick to a genre: veering wildly from meditations on grief, to erotic thriller, to zany heist comedy โ€“ culminating in a kiss between Demi Moore and Whoopi Goldberg (the latter literally possessed by Patrick Swayzeโ€™s spirit). Itโ€™s weird. I wanted this poem to explore the next chapter of the story; revisit its final moments through a queer lens; continue its genre-hopping playfulness.

bottom of page