Poems
– that’s Ganesh to you – is pictured / with a broken tusk: why? / The tale was added / late on / to the Mahabharata.
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~ dots of colour points on a complex / number plane where the x horizontal axis / represents the ‘real’ part number / and the vertical y gives us unseen ...
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I thought I recognised Sorley Maclean / walking towards me down Niagara Lane. / As he came alongside he said look up, / you can see our friend the sky where the tall buildings / lean in towards each other. I can see some glyphs
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Often I am permitted to spin, / flip, go turvy-top, turning / toward unmade places, / shadows, sites of last chances / in a game of loopty-loo ...
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How much labour in yanking the moon one landing / to the next, yard to parking lot scrub culvert wood, / nightly rate of pills per hour how many threads / of linen go to make up the cold worker’s coat? / It is possible to wish for no power more
... (read more)We moved out from the stone of Mallarmé’s mind, through silence of thought
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I’ve come to walk along the jetty, watch the stingrays / glide around the pylons, their sides fanning and flaring / like the skirts of Spanish dancers, but there’s a large / dog tethered to a pole, idling on low growl, speed-smelling / the wind. Its eyes tell me it is used to the loneliness
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2 am. Prompter than usual. Nocturnal emails, / a commonplace book to aphorise – fillipia! / I write to someone in Oxford, then Wagga, / pondering the etiquette of commissioning / in the middle of the night.
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I have two eyes and almost two noses / The lips of one face curve to meet my second / Neither of them look straight ahead.
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