Tag Archives: Life writing

axolotl

axolotyl

in my melancholy baggage
there’s a dead dog   a dead dad

a dead friend or two
a first love gone to fat

too many feuds a la cab sav
silver dance shoes

with a broken buckle
a black velvet dress for a boy

who danced a sore throat away
mum with a tongue           sharp as a paper cut

a cream plastic lamb on a xmas tree
one stillborn burning at my uncle’s farm

the dead tabby on the way home from school
ringed with stones and cringing petals

and the walking fish outside the Bio Lab
speared by Cousins with his compass

stopped in its placid tracks
minding its own business

Finalist in Goodreads poem of the month January 2013

First appeared in Windmills, 2011

 

 

expresh v colonial landscape

He’s too hot to touch in bed after midnight
batteries chokked from the charge of the day
He’s painted his years in the way of von Guerard
crag-man with scalpel on the lookout for the next big commish
Monster canvas, little leaves, shady detail in a felt-funny hat
Big wheels spitting, rev rev revving
Smack in the foreground of a Baroquish frame

She’s broad-brushed her days in the gloom
of a Rothko (wall papery, covering cracks)
The worry of a Tucker Fug of a Turner
Thwacking hangover, too may cigarettes

Too often Pollock melancholia Anaemic
black and white self portraits Blood spurts over her
gun metal carpet turning it black
They say she has a wide aorta Impatiens petals splatter
white tiles (Think American Beauty, Don’t think Pro Hart)
Rose Madder Red straight from her head
she squeezes the tubes

Yet hand in hand side by side
at the end of each day
they say ‘Had a good one?’
and watch Deal or no Deal
before the Six o’clock News

 

Poem first appeared in Shearsman UK, 2012