TOM FITZSIMONS
Call on me
Call on me, storm.
Ask me what I think of you.
Ask me what I think of you.
I’ll tell you: not very much.
You’re just brash and
You’re just brash and
full of piss. Call on me,
call on me, bird.
call on me, bird.
Ask me how you look:
ugly is the answer,
ugly is the answer,
like you came out of
a washing machine
a washing machine
after a black shirt ran,
all the way to your eyes.
all the way to your eyes.
Call on me, call on
me, God.
me, God.
Ask me what I’m going to do
for you.
for you.
Oh, oh, you’re afraid?
Damn right. I would have told you
Damn right. I would have told you
you’re getting nothing from me,
me who never asked for making
me who never asked for making
and found you always breaking
our appointments
our appointments
and watched you always taking
your hand away
your hand away
when I went for a high five.
But call on me, God. Call on me
if you have the time.
Call, call, call on me.
Listen to Tom Fitzsimons read ‘Call on me‘
I meant to have done more
Adam Smith, 1723-1790
My hands are weak
as spectres tonight; so white
they are nearly invisible.
as spectres tonight; so white
they are nearly invisible.
Here is my going,
and still half of Edinburgh
as mad as bees.
and still half of Edinburgh
as mad as bees.
Who of you will heed?
And, if I’ll permit myself
a little casting forwards,
And, if I’ll permit myself
a little casting forwards,
how will you heed?
What will be the manner
of your manufacture?
What will be the manner
of your manufacture?
How high will your factories
be, and how dark
their heat?
be, and how dark
their heat?
Oh, I meant to have done
more. Meant to have turned down
the portman’s wage, meant
more. Meant to have turned down
the portman’s wage, meant
to have thought
through the wheeling to come,
the cogs that have already begun
through the wheeling to come,
the cogs that have already begun
to turn.
And here is the French girl in my ear
saying: let be,
And here is the French girl in my ear
saying: let be,
hush, let be.
But ho, these hands are fading and
not everything will have its advantage.
But ho, these hands are fading and
not everything will have its advantage.
Oh, I meant for more to be written;
I meant for all
to be well.
I meant for all
to be well.
Listen to Tom Fitzsimons read ‘I meant to have done more’
White Tuxedo
The day the aliens came,
I was dressed all in white.
I was dressed all in white.
This meant they missed me
with their beam.
with their beam.
My friend Scott, in his red cap, got
pulled upwards slowly.
pulled upwards slowly.
I watched him with my white hand
across my white eyes, accidentally disguised.
across my white eyes, accidentally disguised.
Scott never pointed, never said a thing
but I bet he was wishing
but I bet he was wishing
he had bought himself a white tuxedo,
like I had, just the day before.
like I had, just the day before.
Listen to Tom Fitzsimons read ‘White Tuxedo‘
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tom Fitzsimons grew up on the east side but now lives on the west side. Of Wellington. He recently finished the MA in Creative Writing at the IIML. He writes most of his poems very late at night.