(g)rug

 

the koala tucked legs
of squirm disturbed sleep
and grasp clenched fist

each child I consider
shaving this chest

 

to walk over there

it just became more and more difficult
to wear the responsibility of skin. never a glance

down a barrel aimed with shot
yet this is the modern loaded gun; glances
packed with distance

and sure you’ve got a clip
full of questions
questions

this timber bench seat has been painted dozens of times – so much sitting – the grass isn’t worn into tracks – the concrete path is wide – you could drive tanks full of handshakes and smiles down there

sorry isn’t sorry
if it sits down afterwards
sympathy feels wet and dripping
yet you’ve gotta carry something over there

what is the average weight of an accidental condescending comment? nothing
weighed against an attempt plus forgiveness smile, which is a collaboration

between two
arms folded
looking down at the same spot of ground
standing in a park in south brisbane

senryu #P

another attempt
the dashboard dog
shakes its head

.

.

.

Haven’t written much in a while. Happy to be playing with this short form again.

What if… ‘Eddie Gilbert Selected’

.        

     for the Australian xi

given a ticket of leave from the aboriginal camp

west of Brisbane

on a chaperoned train ride to Adelaide

instructed to

Bowl Fast as you can at England

there’s Jardine lying on the crease

                                                holding his head

Eddie’s boomerang wrist from a short run

Native Knocks-out England’s Captain Cold

 I reckon Eddie

 would have been first

by his side

to make sure he was alright

the next ball

a scorching yorker

England’s Bodyline Strategy in Shatters

 

Eddie hiding from headlines of himself

on the train back to Cherbourg

///

This is a piece I wrote earlier this year after viewing the work of Artist Ron Hurley at Brisbane’s GOMA exhibition.  The life and cricket career of Eddie Gilbert fascinates me. I hear that The Sunday Mail has run a story about Eddie Gilbert today. There is also a statue of Eddie in full flight at Alan Border field in Albion, Brisbane.

one of those council parks

with boom gate entrance
secluded eucalyptus
tables and seats
sit empty in the shade
the carpark full

all the paths lead to themselves
rough pebbled short and bendy
past a struggling bottle brush

butcherbird and magpie
on the same branch of the ironbark
eyeing off the lawn for supple grubs

20131210-124915.jpg

when words sit and listen

.

I stroll in with a satchelful
of spoken-phrases
ink sympathy on A4

he reads out of his hand
held screen unpolished
smudged with struggle

she sings
through fumbled chords
a two hundred year ache
in her voice

.

.

Ashes

 (inspired from David Stavanger @readerinres ‘ashes’)

a bruised face records the good shots
an inelegant swann spins from vulture street
I miss the hill – I don’t
miss the dog track – what happened
to Happy Jack?

we aussies sing in beautiful chorus
when the lyric includes ‘wanker’ – Broad is
conducting crowds in a deep square
the kid in front is seeing the beach ball
like fruit-flys

the umpire doesn’t have his eye in
the member’s haze on stanley is rich
boxes come in air-conditioned
or extremely humid

Section 14 Row T seat 7 is bellow
XXXX survives on event monopoly
slow motion replays reveal VB stepped on
toes over the border

 the umpire called
‘bye’

 It requires 6 x ten, nine, eight, seven, six,
five, four, three, two, one for a Mexican 2 pi R

white is a canvas
bowlers draw batsmen
holding the bat out
there’s a spot they missed
for advertising

Wooloon-cappemm (jagerra)
means place of swirling plastic beer cups

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