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Scott-Patrick Mitchell
Scott-Patrick Mitchell works as a journalist for OUTinPerth. His poetry and fiction has been published in numerous anthologies, journals and zines and he has been a guest of both the National Young Writers’ Festival and the Emerging Writers’ Festival. In 2009, he won The PressPress Chapbook Award for songs for the ordinary mass, a collection which fuses urban sampling with Gregorian musical notations. He recently featured in a new anthology called Out of the Box and won the 2010 Poetry Slam in Perth. Scott-Patrick has been accepted into WAAPA at Edith Cowan University where he will complete a Masters in Performance Poetry and will be published by both Fremantle Press and Puncher & Wattman later this year.
heART sounds
By Scott-Patrick Mitchell

the individual
conscious heart

beats, pleats sauce
pan chest on the

5th itercostal
space bed. lead

. 2wo sounds
distinguish

, have short paws
, “lubb dup” their

technical maws
louder than dew

, mew muscles caw
. the closure of

valves. the second
“dup” is aortic

after ejection, the
rush elastic erection

. i have a mouth
. it bleeds word
.

Pushlished in The Diamond & the Thief - January 11

. confession to good intentions .
by Scott-Patrick Mitchell

i wrote down every sms & txt
message you ever sent me, from

when the slow grind of commitment
swallowed whole sorrow, wetting

all the carpet, excited, to hollow men
hollering against the wind, as though

it would steer your car back across the
nullabor, packed like a merchant ship

selling you off across the eastern boarder
. i even keep the ones you send me now

, which is simple since there are none, just
electronic inboxing emptied of your syllables

. it is a 1ne sided conversation that i read
habitually: both the build up & absence

. your once were words still keep bold counsel

. like a novel or short fictional work written up

, language & i have together developed a plot
. if i speak with the majesty a majesty musters

& flourish florentine fare from here to the nearest
star, the dark one over there, words, grammar

, syntax & stammer have all promised to
imagine your voice. do not be surprised if

tomorrow your fawning phone hides
, fumbles from your side before being

spoken through, coffee orders & acknowledgements
skulking to lull behind your lobes. conspire it shall

, but with the utmost intention & purpose
. now, excuse me, alpha centauri expects

jabbering to roar from my throat until
dawn, & i can’t disappoint keeping the

neighbours awake. i have sent you a
biro & blank note pad to make amends

. xoxoxxx

Published in The Diamond & the Thief – April 10