He remembers catching lizards in laundry baskets with a mother in a house where the
latches fall off and he is trapped (except for the side window) in the little glory of his room. then Sunday and there is a little
bundle, neat something mewing
sounds like a cat, he thinks, but this cat is pink and it seems to have no hair where there should be hair a strange cat, he thinks but obviously, it will leave.
the cat doesn't leave and instead grows, grows up and out and attached to his mother
all of the day
(and sometimes secretly at night too you see)
so he remembers sneaky one day to push the little thing out the door, roll it down the steps to the drive and down the dark gurgle-hole at the end out to the oysters
and the bay
and he remembers the bat swooping past his mum and her quick, high 'shit' the frizz of her hair then, the arc of the bat and his mother all grown up, pink sweater and
culottes and all and
he thinks there that that little world, his glory, was remarkably large
if you include the dead bats and the pigeons and the rat (half rat really) that time
that riddle the ground of the side-passage you'll have a good idea of the temptation
he remembers finding long and slender white - the knee bone of a hu - horse...horse..
because this acre held a gelding or two in the last rural tipping of the shire into
suburb.
and If you take all Sunday to come back, halfbound wheelchair and all and don't move
again for those three hot weeks, we'll all together drive sombre round - a man-mobile
of strength and worms and dirt and nothing but the tears we're holding back
I'm asking you to walk, again for the time and all, you reached past my face and cross-
snitched an ornamental tree upon my heart, thank you.
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
how it went down (version 2)
1 year 9 months in - there's a knock on
the phone, an arching maybe
spanning a week and weekend -
what is that?
they'll know, the ones, the white-suit
slick-blade scalpel crew
you, the you, deep down from
14, from 12 from times before South
Australia, say 'run' - the you, that
loving you, the now, the always you
says 'stay'
and you do, through 4 year, 5 year
nearly and so
in stitching our canvas to the
ebb of my intentions
a little piece, lost in the
filtered red-water lake (it's tea-tree
you tell me, and I, I don't believe) a little
piece of you goes missing,
that's the way I don't see, they took it
I took it - and didn't see you
ragged and hemmed with the 'run, run'
pounding through your head
and me, smashing glasses (it's just a crack)
and muttering like my father at
televisions, the world and all
the promises of high-school captains
and kings of men,
didn't see the stitching
or you, crouched, hungry
trying to suture
us, again, without me
I'm sorry
the phone, an arching maybe
spanning a week and weekend -
what is that?
they'll know, the ones, the white-suit
slick-blade scalpel crew
you, the you, deep down from
14, from 12 from times before South
Australia, say 'run' - the you, that
loving you, the now, the always you
says 'stay'
and you do, through 4 year, 5 year
nearly and so
in stitching our canvas to the
ebb of my intentions
a little piece, lost in the
filtered red-water lake (it's tea-tree
you tell me, and I, I don't believe) a little
piece of you goes missing,
that's the way I don't see, they took it
I took it - and didn't see you
ragged and hemmed with the 'run, run'
pounding through your head
and me, smashing glasses (it's just a crack)
and muttering like my father at
televisions, the world and all
the promises of high-school captains
and kings of men,
didn't see the stitching
or you, crouched, hungry
trying to suture
us, again, without me
I'm sorry
Monday, 18 May 2009
how it went down v1
I think it's July 16 when you sit me down, say
you feel, that you
can't make you anymore, say
sorry as you take back
the mystery flight and the sole condolence
tear up the Absolut posters, the nightmare before.
I think it's Sunday when I say 'this
isn't working' and you
you know i know you
never meant it to, want to want not quite
there right
so it's still
not cool love that i've a need to fill, say
sarcasm to imagine gone
and you you backing down the drive
all the time whisperin 'I do, I do'
you feel, that you
can't make you anymore, say
sorry as you take back
the mystery flight and the sole condolence
tear up the Absolut posters, the nightmare before.
I think it's Sunday when I say 'this
isn't working' and you
you know i know you
never meant it to, want to want not quite
there right
so it's still
not cool love that i've a need to fill, say
sarcasm to imagine gone
and you you backing down the drive
all the time whisperin 'I do, I do'
Monday, 4 May 2009
satellites
all that really matters to me
as I hit the atmosphere
calling myself a rocket
is that somewhere
that smile, so beguiling -
rests carefully on a face
I've not see for a year
oh sure, the digital
anomalies that pass for
our passings these days
make sure we feel, connected
to the indelicate web of
parched lives, nineties
and whole
I've waited so long for
someone to take me back home
now that that might be (you)
I think it's the big...
well...apple...you see
so why can't I say that in
person, tomorrow
and forget the consequences, live
in the leap ahead as you push
I push the steep, the rough, the
impossible off the scales and out into
space, floating away
where I can hang, with you
and watch the earth spin
as I hit the atmosphere
calling myself a rocket
is that somewhere
that smile, so beguiling -
rests carefully on a face
I've not see for a year
oh sure, the digital
anomalies that pass for
our passings these days
make sure we feel, connected
to the indelicate web of
parched lives, nineties
and whole
I've waited so long for
someone to take me back home
now that that might be (you)
I think it's the big...
well...apple...you see
so why can't I say that in
person, tomorrow
and forget the consequences, live
in the leap ahead as you push
I push the steep, the rough, the
impossible off the scales and out into
space, floating away
where I can hang, with you
and watch the earth spin
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