Day 11 – intertextuality (& introspection)

11 elephantwater

Book Club selection this week was Water for Elephants.


big top potpourri 

granted Water for Elephants
has been read before
but the deja vu familiarity blends
into The Night Circus, Cirque du Freak
numerous history of circus books
from when I was researching
my play The Menagerie of Broken Flowers
(later renamed Ugliophobia)
countless kids books by Enid,
others starring Paddington, Olivia, etc;

dozens of celluloid iterations
The Greatest Show on Earth,
Marx Brothers, Freaks, Elvis
probably worked at one in
the mid-60’s, a misunderstood
troublemaker; U2’s dreamlike video
to All I Want Is You; even Dumbo ;
& of course the exquisitely surreal
dustbowl drama Carnivale.
Plus: managing a kids circus;
working for Cirque du Soleil;
meeting many of Australia’s
talented carnies & contemporary
circus artists

means the words & situations
all blur together to fabricate
a simulacrum of  surely  every
eternal     childhood     dream



BONUS POEM: April 11, 2018

Final David-inspired pome (for now?). 


marble thoughts

schoolgirl groups
giggle, turn away
countless digital zooms
capture closeups
of my junk

others slide out
the extensions
on their ubiquitous
selfie sticks
pretend to balance
me on their palms
or once again
point how small
my tinkle is
(won’t even deign
to mention how cold
his studio was in winter)

some do little more
than click & walk on
one more cultural
checkpoint ticked off
the list

a few of these awful
smartPhone snaps
are even well framed

miss the days
actually looked

11b thoughts.JPG

Day 8 – it’s water jim, but not as you know it

A toast to one of my favourite substances. Been wanting to write a poem about this elixir for a very long time. What came out, wasn’t quite what I expected … but I kinda like it …

NB – I thought I’d uploaded this last night, but I was very tired & clearly I only saved it. Ooops. (Sarah saw it yesterday so she can verify it was written then 🙂 )


uisce beatha : water of life

drinking you is:

sword swallowing
while swinging
from a trapeze

crashing a spaceship
into the sun
to save humanity
from … something

dancing on
the volcano’s lip
as the fire below
becomes the fire
sliding inside

your baptismal juice:

has restored my life
numerous times
drowning despair
in your amber fire
before hope somehow
phoenixes out soggy
& with a sore head
but ready to go on

give me:

an eternal well
of your water
& i shall always


Whisky_by_Hankins copy