Dave Coates grew up in Belfast before moving to York for his English Lit undergrad, and has lived in Edinburgh for just over a year. He is part of the editing team for Read This Magazine, runs a poetry night at The Bowery aimed at new/emerging writers, and earlier this year had a chapbook published by The Forest called Cover Story. He blogs at The Not Brazilian Blog.
Afters
This is a cupcake, not a muffin,
muffins have no icing – this has enough in
to make a grown man saccharine, or at least
a more excitable beast. This palm-spanning feast
of heavy cream, shortening, sugar and butter
and eggs and god-knows-what has me shudder-
ing across the line where words begin to falter,
where desire holds sway. The glisteny way the water-
lily-white frosting is bursting with the lush
insistence, here I am, its brush-
stroked largess and malleable lines
looming beyond its papery confines
and stippling, drippling from your skin-bare
wrists, enlarge your curlicue smile as you declare
here you are.
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