Day 06 – flight (& caffeine)

06 zoom

Visited a place. Disturbing and awe-inspiring in conflicting measure.


From our flying machines

On the outskirts of a calm country village
hiding in plain sight on nondescript dirt
is a testimony to an obsession writ large.
One man’s love of our avian imitation.
A huge game of aeronautical tetris;
wingspans laid across the dimensions
of his shed to determine how best
to accomodate two full size planes;
plus countless parts of engines, frames,
wings, tyres, cockpits, fuselages, noses, gun
turrets, dioramas & much other miscellania
I have no knowledge of.

And. The. Models. So many models.
Glass cabinet. After glass cabinet.
Into an infinity of dusty air.
Some in 1:72 scale. Some in 1:48 scale.
Others in scales my brain did not retain
because it had already overloaded
by this point and spent the rest of the visit
screaming over & over to my past & future selves

what have you done with your life
what have you done with your life
what have you done
                                     with your life 



BONUS POEM: April 6, 2018

A simple pome about an Italian favourite.


Espresso of Sorpresa

three mornings in a row
three separate hostesses
have been surprised
when I request

today I beat her
to the punchline
is only good
to wash

your face


06b caffe

Day 20 – poem about emotional maturity


Two thirds of the way through NaPoWriMo 2017 … & a light-hearted poem on a day when I just wanted to read & relax.


people accuse
me of being

patently untrue
clearly they have
not observed

the blasé way
i now fingernail
a stray dog hair

up the slippery
side of my mug
after its quick

coffee dip &
continue sipping

Day 19 – Photocopy of a photocopy of Dante

Another day of Last Line (Gone). Yesterday was fun & easy. Rules: use last line of book as first line of poem, then once complete, remove it [Optional extra: let book’s title influence the mood of the poem]. Again, stream-of-conscious, fast, fun & very little editing.

After tonight’s excellent Lee Marvin Reading, fellow poet & friend Thom Sullivan & I, sat on some public furniture & chatted about the poeting caboodle. He mentioned (again) Australian poet, John Kinsella as someone whose (best) work interests him. He’s suggested I should read him several times now, oops … & every time I’ve promised myself that when I get home, I’d remember to take out my only book of Kinsella’s (Divine Comedy: Journeys through a regional geography) & check it out.

Tonight, at last, I remembered. (Well, to take it out. In reality, I only “checked out” the last couple of pages.) Today’s last line is taken from that collection.

semidivine comedy

we hoped we would — instead — we rushed apart — like breaking glass — like the coffee cup — tipping over your phone — notebook — collection of poetry you were carrying — it’s been that kind of day — road blocks — crime scene tape — bureaucratic pedantry — bureaucratic banality — bureaucratic pettiness — always had trouble spelling bureaucracy — even after spellcheck figured out — what i was trying to type — still get it wrong — the word as irritating — as the construct — it represents — a day spent rushing — trying to catch up to itself — sort itself out — wondering where you went — whether you’d be back — another heart — left behind — another story — incomplete — a homeless guy — with a worse tale — doesn’t even know a joke — but can rail — against the system — give him money — realise — life can be a starlit canto — if you let it


LAST LINE: grow inseparable.

fruits of a lazy sunday

Despite the catchy title of this post, I actually got quite a bit done yesterday.

I wrote drafts of, edited or tweaked at least half a dozen poems. Not to mention read, took the dog for a wild weather beach walk, & lost several hours in the perennial pleasure of tidying & rearranging books on their shelves.

I even spent a few minutes thinking about doing the dishes. (Sure a pedant will point out they didn’t actually get done, but you have to start somewhere.)

So here’s the first draft of one of the new poems. (It actually had a verse revised late in the evening, so technically I guess it’s draft #1.5.)


essence of sunday afternoon
all week

i’ve been looking forward
to the thought of writing
a poem which captures the
essence of sunday afternoon

after a decadent sleep-in
i read in bed for a little
get up, toast crumpets
drown them in butter

make a fresh black coffee
stretch, sit at my desk
stare out my window
scribble over neat notes

realise i need to think
more deeply on the subject
lie on sunwarmed couch
— wake three hours later

job done


rainbow hammock


NB this is not a photo of me in my hammock hee hee