Day 28 – holidays (& queues)

28 butterfly-3561191_960_720.jpg

After a hectic week, this is just a simple little word sketch of part of my afternoon.


last day of holidays

a dozen monarchs dancedrift
in pepperscented air ,
translucent against blue ;
my neck crane tracks
their unscheduled flightpaths .
the holiday happy kids
next door bubbleblow ;
while in the lofty gum above ,
a crow mocks their efforts ;
his chainsaw pull laugh
repeatedly kickstarting the air .


BONUS POEM: April 28, 2018

Travel, sightseeing, culturfying yourself is predominantly about standing in queues with people you’d prefer not to be seen in public with. 



from the French qarrsewhippe
a late 16th century heraldic
term meaning to “quickly despise
the people nearby; this stupid
attraction; the whole goddamn
country; indeed every living
human being on the planet”

i say every since you’re the fool
still standing seemingly forever
in this purgatorial procession
of humanity’s dregs
who fail to comprehend
basic tenets of hygiene
conversational volume
or personal space to view
a monument of no doubt
dubious merit in the first place


To the jerk in the queue in front of me

almost coping with your incessant
OCDesque  side to side pacing
& intermittent backwards  bump
into me  despite the large gap
i’m attempting to keep between
us  since your first unexpected
incursion into my discomfort zone

but honestly, if you don’t care
to keep possession of the lint
from your shorts’ pockets
when exactly did you realise
it was what i want
             blowing    over    me

28b queue for castle.jpg

Day 5 – Crows everywhere you turn

Today’s Title Poem challenge ties in with what I’m about to do in a little over 90 minutes.

After 8pm tonight, I will be performing a handful of poems at Lee Marvin Readings (LEE MARVIN is ON THE RAZZLE) all connected by a common denominator. That denominator is the same as I’m using as inspiration for this poem, & it is definitely the poem that works best as an independent unit, rather than a word game assemblage.

Source of titles is Ted Hughes’ crow: from the life & songs of the crow. I removed ‘crow’ from any title in which it appeared … & here is the result.


crow’s snake hymn

that moment
you hear fate knock on the door
fleeing from eternity
fragment of an ancient tablet
a sickened revenge fable

that moment vanity alights
that moment ego frowns
that moment nerve fails
that moment colour communes blacker than ever

how water begins to play
improvises in laughter
goes hunting
and mama
and the birds
and stone
and the sea
on the beach

that moment
lovesong undersong owl’s song

that moment
you glimpse theology is
a bedtime story
a childish prank
a grin a disaster a kill
a horrible religious error

truth kills everybody


36 titles used out of a possible 68. Only 4 italicised words & one tense change. I could have added other titles, but it really felt ‘complete’ at this point & any more would have bloated it. Pretty pleased. Now to get ready for the reading.


April 5 – Day Five: modern day celebrations

Although it’s posted a few hours late, this poem was definitely written yesterday.  (As Deb Dawson can attest — I was writing it while watched Tom Cruise play, well, um, Tom Cruise, in “Minority Report”.)

A full day, a bunch of drugs (painkiller & hayfever, I’m not that hardcore), a late night & a wishywashy internet connection when I got home prevented an on time posting. Soz.

Once again, the eventual outcome was not the intended topic. It seems so far every day I’ve had an experience which goads me into poetry-attemping mode.  “Today” (Yesterday) was attending one of the few modern day equivalents of ritual, myth, celebration, collective communion we still have as a culture.  I won’t say much more than that.  See if you can work out what I’m doing before the end.  Locals are going to be at an advantage to international readers…  (so apologies to those three people — hahaha!)


Coliseum of the Crow

like Orpheus we began
by descending
into the bowels of hell
our coin to pay Charon
given us by a bank
to compensate
friends who lost
everything in a fire
cross the Styx
find ourselves
in a deserted
concrete mausoleum
half a dozen cars
where a 1000 should be
elevated into the arena
inside the new stadium
before the gates open
strange to be surrounded
by such vast emptiness
where crowds are
meant to congregate
we laugh out loud
at the surreality

then a siren sounds
startling us from
our spacestaring
the rush is on
we are washed away
by damned souls
for surely we are all
damned … believing
in the cult of the Crow


1. coliseum

2. hades

The Coliseum & Hades: images: moi