Tag Archives: Rocklea

To the Avocado Who Swam the Good Fight

 

While sleeping, the river
crept into Rocklea
entered cucumber coldrooms
and banana gas chambers.

A waterproof Haas treading
the warehouse swamp for days
kept its head up like an instinct
sensing rest in an elbow of steel racking.

4000psi shuddering skeletons
a billion bees drumming the rest
of life to silence.

Through mist, dank light
a cold room wall
brought back to bone.

4000psi shuddering steel racking
stripped of pallets, flesh
of fruit and vegies steaming
in a pile of January sun.

Another avocado trapped above
my head, the forgotten dead
hanging just below high tide.

4000psi shuddering
this hanger back to 4 deg
in a few days, filling
with new fruit.

This is the poem I read at the Ekka and at the open mic at QPF recently.  Let me know what you think.  I’m still not completely settled on it.  Happy National Poetry Week to all.

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To The Avocado Who Swam The Good Fight

.

4000psi shuddering

skeletons.  A billion bees

drumming the rest

of life to silence.  Through mist, dank light

a cold room wall brought back

to bone.

.

4000psi shuddering

steel racking

stripped of pallets, flesh

of fruit and veggies now steaming

in a pile of January sun.

.

Another avocado trapped

above my head, the forgotten

dead hanging just below high tide.

.

While sleeping, the river crept

into Rocklea. Entering cucumber coldrooms

and banana gas chambers.  Waterproof Haas treading

warehouse swamp for days, keeping it’s

head up like an instinct. Sensing

rest in an elbow of steel racking.

.

Washing salad

on a loading dock, spread

across the street, scooped

by excavator.

.

4000psi shuddering

this hanger back to 4 deg

in a few days

to fill with new fruit.

.

misty market voices

.

The morning fog played at our feet

swirling softly, dulling voices

just like a mountain village street

Brisbane Markets shouting choices

.

“Bananas… Cav bananas here!”

but today his voice is swallowed

in padded walls of atmosphere

Low, heavy, carved out and hollowed

.

Then it lifted, it disappeared

Swiftly whisked by the waiting sun

like a silk table cloth is cleared

by the waiter’s hand on the run

.

The strains of change for every eye

if it paused, looking up to see

the vast blue wispy marbled sky

above the markets of Rocklea

.