a plain voice maybe?

2:47am awake even though I know I shouldn't be - even though my eyes ache and lashes stick together when I blink. I'm going back...home...I said it again today, and didn't mean here. I've mumbled that word to myself only a handful of times this past decade - on a Greyhound sliding in at dawn, glimpsing the CN Tower and now flying in a night and seeing the long twist of the Thames, the squat gold spike of Big Ben...this time round, back here, in Oz, I've felt a stranger - professionally, socially, deep down more foreign than I ever have miles and miles away and I don't know what that means...

it was oh yes

to fix you on this earth again;
unsex me, grail my heart
and bury it in a thousand
years of mysteries for
architects and polymaths to
goad each other over -
only then unleash me,
face-melting, replicant
wrath of that testament
god, fired over 40 nights
and you'll see, what I see,
her burning still, alive
dark, white skinned
peeling - lovely and terrifying
and all mine again

here

how is it that I have a spread of cards, posted from your shore
to me and I've not sent one thing back,
I'm sorry for my lack baby, this thing's consumed me here
in the home that's not, without a certain you
I'll be a better form of man, given over to
the proper pursuit of us

parking

if i find you, out on the river slick,
the father plane, a right there rock,
i'd say 'see, see how I am' and you might
cock one wet ear and laugh
through dark ringlets a yawning mouth
the horror at that red, those lips,
still kiss-printed on a card
I keep in my wallet, that's yours
7 years on, they're still here - how
tacky these dark forensics and my
sweet secret darling, near 8 years passed

paen

I just got a poem in the mail that rhymed an'all
a real poetess at work, some scratch mind honey-bunch
sweet little thing, a blue-eyed mistress of quirk
and it brought me my deep seat out loud
a hunch sob from a heat place, the cough and cry of oh and I
a perfect syncro of you.
So now that that's the distance to here, oh yes,
keep em coming, I say
and I for my sins will return this tin thing
and ask where is Wally today.