a right to equality (through a comprehension of parts)

he understood the work was a whole thing more so than segments and portions chapters and stanzas yet as a reader he found the imagery of the complete work . . . overwhelming so much so many in his way though he felt that he was perhaps the equal of the poem of the poet …

the glow in the table (heart and soul)

he found it half buried under some rubbish at the back of a shed that was a junk shop in Shepparton old blackwood tables with extension leaves show up that way from time to time it was the work of his heart when he got it back home to separate it into its parts re-carpenter …

the wind thief

he built his trap from ground up into the air baited it in the shape of a cross released to spin at the first soft touch of the first passing kiss around around the shaft thrums a song of crunch and of its own turning he watches adjusting angles freeing movement until the turn is …

the colour of light/brilliant – sepia

he has spent a long time trying to see what colour is the light today he isn’t thinking of refraction or rainbow but what light is today something bright and brilliant yesterday is already a fainter shade memories of youth somehow hold a rosy pink-tinged hue the room he slept in then seems toned in …

calling a cockatoo/summoning

a piercing two fingers in the mouth whistle repeated emitted again leaving ears ringing but no other result he gazes a little forlorn at the upper reaches of the mirabelle tree whistles again a plum falls two the whistle resounds ~ forlorn the boy turns away returns slowly to the house where he looks accusingly …

breathing life into the garden

the exhalation of his breath was like a thin grey smoke pallid minute movements of his lips and great concentration shaped directions in the clear air he saw a garden in the exhaled mist a row of flowers white behind them he blew a façade of the happy house that he recalled another breath another …

memories of bathing

he takes off his shoes socks pants and his shirt naked is the way to go forward from here he has tried to use clothing to cover him over to attempt the concealment of what stands self-condemned but he is only one man whose shames are just the small sins of deeds he has done …

plugging

every so often he would have to stir himself because the floors would begin to thin the ceiling would creep a little lower or the sound of rain falling down away would become too much like a waterfall then he would take his cloud-grey plugs and load them into the cloud-plugger he would swim around …

unfriended by the walls

it began when a door required readjusting swollen down below sticking to the floorboards a physical thing for intervention or perhaps a carpenter to talk to someone who understood the window’s problems were more clearly psychological transparently neurotic but still a form of psychic discomfort surrounded by blank stares one by one the foundation pieces …

dream, draw, home to bed

he drew a picture of a house chimney red roof and windows in the picture he drew himself opening a door ~ he drew a picture of a kitchen pots stove and table in the picture he drew himself stealing biscuits hot right off the tray ~ he drew a picture of a hallway flower …