Ditty

Thought I saw Les Murray in my rear vision mirror
walking with a black dog where the footpath isn’t clear.
Had like a simile in one hand but no lead gripped in the other:
puppy was or wasn’t his, it would appear.

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Christmas 2018

for Cathy

Where is that crow going?
Same place as us.
Look at it rowing
Between a slog and a swallow.
Once heard it groaning
Now it fills the expanse
Mirror black where the oil spill was
Speck of midnight at noon
A little storm in the blue
No reminder of awful death,
My love, sweet shade in the belting sun
Soft dusk two words two words two words
All the murder soft-loud following-joining
Slowing the progress of twilight.
So we’re going the way of that crow my love
So the oceans are filling
With trivia
So bad men do great
While good women groan
So the trial of God secret
And appealed
So I am unkind—
Call low-hard soft-loud to your murder
From our crooks above the creek bend
Hunched and bright dark
We’ll answer.

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Winter Solstice 2018: Ya Boo Sucks

If life gives you lemons fuck lemonade
All that sugar—just suck.
Find yourself winded on the kitchen floor
Don’t get up, lie a while and feel the dirt
Check your bits why don’t you
Consider
Giving up whatever knocked you down
Thank your stars for arms and legs
And move on—but not just yet
Where’s the hurry to do?
This is not wallowing.
If you’re humble about your failure—
Anybody could have done it
Shit just chose you—
Every now and again
Fail gloriously.
Bless and be still.

Time for a Good Hot Cuppa

Sleeplessness is awful
Insomnia is worse.
Dreaming of pomegranates
Left on our porch
Only to find they’re real—
Or did our porch dream them?
Why not bathe in cool tea
Instead of drinking your shame
All alongside the night?
Find our neighbour left the fruit
But still give credit to the porch:
Bathing in reality is not entirely sweet.
I shall run toward my story
After market, after poetry.
Now, where is that strainer?