It’s storming paparazzi flashy herding in a night grim as fairy-tales perhaps I’ll dream of Zeus’s horsemen the drive and lash sky crumbling to dust beneath their thunder or of tiny Tinkerbell under the pear tree cowering in the wild-lit droplets between the black curls of the wrought iron garden chair the rain like tossed … Continue reading grim as fairy-tales
Body Memory photos / the pottery of our age / their grainy sediment / clotting untracked tears we hold ourselves in / back then I was lean, brown / wearing my skin like a shuckable raincoat / never knowing that the colours glowed some days image is everything / desiccated fashion labels pinned on fabric … Continue reading The Liquid Inside Us
(I) the wind hustles in a mood for dancing leaves perform an etude quiet but technical I ask,"have you been practising?" (II) scrap of bark in sickled flight enjoys one moment as a lark’s wing before resuming flappishness the tickle of the grass on its scratched brown face (III) Once in a while the bogong … Continue reading the problem of feeling ordinary
subtlety falls after rain gleaming world tilted to pinwheels each sonorous drip and the rainbow clings from black the pastel sheen oil slick sky tangled in roses
I never saw until this wet spring those tiny dark purple flowers on the bush near the letterbox the one with variegated leaves it’s bare of blossoms again now, come and gone like crying it’s the washing of time suds like purple flowers or the throat-grip of tears it’s the wetness makes the tears and … Continue reading Circles
He wonders which came first: the universe or mathematics? In the blackness of time a puddle of puzzles and we, the pupils in this unseeing eye, find the questions sticky as displaced lashes. We rub and rub… bringing on the slow implosion of galaxies toward a single grammar inexorable as starlight (sigma quotient cos pi … Continue reading The Sum of It
serrated horizon how the mountains carve the sky prick of daggers evergreens' green blades slice white into the blue whingeing bones lean and creak against the west that high whine wind buzz friction zippered in Earth’s old joints the hammers’ patternless bruising *Docetaxel is a chemotherapy drug
(Photo Prompt + Twiglet) Photo from Miz Quickly This track in sinuous green parallels the river’s rush and the runner with embered cheeks, heaves breath through singed lungs. Stars burn in the sun-touched water
I try to imagine taking my hips out there the upright the cold like an old piano off tune in the park my timber’s warped splintered and I feel my strings tugging too tight // too loose. The winter boughs clatter like castanets my beanied drums my ears my fog shrugged in a rolled up … Continue reading For him or for me?
Oh little worm I cry for you, a brave blue collar hero in the machinery of life. You can’t know that tiny, iridescent spheres of deadly plastic are concealed in the soil you eat so conscientiously and you may not know that your little life keeps the lungs of our planet-body healthy and fit. Oh … Continue reading Machinery of Life
Out of the Cave 