untitled – c

this is a story about companionship in the mornings when I rise I pace the floor noting shadows and silences that watch my movements neither guardians nor sentinels their significance eludes me on the patio I can lean against a fence that forms a boundary between myself and the garden bed unkempt through my neglectful …

thinking about the still to come

yesterday was a bread I baked from flour and yeast to aroma and crust today was coffee from green beans to brown tomorrow might be sauce from tomatoes on the vine and I’m wondering about the things that I might do with a harvest of apples and a pick of dark berries that’s already overdue …

friday marching

police are at the lights halting traffic for a disheveled line of twos and threes mostly older and oddly formal in long coats and small hats with occasional children like the misplacement of a Sunday over the road to right-angle past the few shops and on towards the crossing halted by the raising of an …

guilty secret

I don’t usually drink alone a little glug at teatime is enough when I’m at home but sometimes grows as large as I feel small temptation gets too much and that is all … when I’ve got a guilty secret in a bottle by my side some lousy fool was drinking and it must have …

in the rehearsal room

in the corner of the room she's set up a kind of mobile stage with a keyboard and a microphone song passages on a music stand the foot pedal below waiting for a touch the black-vinyl chair is almost ready to sing now and all that's needed is ... no there it is now just …

acting on one leg

a friend of mine is a one-legged man who once was an over-weight thespian fell on the stage in rehearsal broke an ankle picked up an infection in the hospital lost his leg he is a jolly man who runs to two new prosthesis every year removes the current choice from time to time in …

small town

this is a small town in victoria streets are wide the shops are neat and the tourists come it’s a lucky town in a lucky place where making bread means dough and buying a loaf just has to be a local experience on the main street in the morning the haberdasher sweeps her pavement the …

a shooting star in emergency

I thought I saw a shooting star not far above the height of my head on the road outside the fence-line it moved fast enough to create the illusion but soon too soon became just a car travelling the highway lights reflected on the overhead wires of the electricified train line and in a moment …

welcome return

the dog has found joy a bark has returned to her lips and she capers with squealing yips to emphasise her pleasure I also have found my pleasure in your return it may be true the adage about absence and fondness though necessarily understated for the absence is brutal the fondness almost a plea for …

after ’till the next time’

but later after the energy has gone drained in a celebratory extravagance super-high super-charged and burned magnesium ignited and you were so ... you were so so good and it rushed around your body till you buzzed and hummed fast really fast but after so empty that you rattle like a rock in a can …