2476
7.283
12.x.26
I
have forgotten the word for wheel
the city’s spaghetti
I’m a potato
I live in a rabbit hutch
such a long way up from the floor
you could call it arrested development
bending to bow to bend
I was coming from that time
had the hat to prove
under the ground
learn to steer without stars
the law against a question
must never be set down
2475
7.282
11.x.26
a
meaningless life
same river, old moon
on another
screen
see all the others I see
it’s only the same sun rises
do it in my sleep, you can
watch carefully
throes of the physical
leading to more
watch carefully
and see the past
how we’re unfolded here
though even the same stars shine
there are parts of the day
just turn around
we’re there
make a face
that’s you
take the pills
and fly
2474
7.281
10.x.26
a
little giggle with the clouds
ekphrastic
for Togo Seiji’s 1929 ‘Surrealistic Stroll’
how sexlessly a moon declines
as leapt for
to dance is to bright the shapes
flight takes
house is just one shape
no more
you will look up to see
there will be no shadow to cast
2473
7.280
9.x.26
the
spectacle
the sky that was always there comes on
no one has ever seen this before
it is opening, ever opening
it’s only the eyes of wonder for life
it’s as has been guessed where none ever know
we are sudden with the worlds
they’re coming, we’re back there
great joy, touch lightly
you have to be falling to be caught
you’ll need to jump to land
2472
7.279
8.x.26
hung
out to dry
ekphrastic
for Egami Shigeo’s 1931 ‘garden at my cousin’s house’
a bench and a sun
so the shadow falls
fern to centre
yukata strung like another day’s ghosts
it’s green water still
the roof must leak fortuitously
nothing stirs now
leaves are raised
and the leaves traipse down
stone on a plinth to revere
2471
7.278
7.x.26
as
ever if a bridge to cross
Gore
Cove Track Series
running through the sun as it were
at pace
and to middle the day
with a high up
hear it!
that’s the weather
beat of sun walking into the heat
bounce of the track
compass of eye
creekshine where
what was it I meant to say?
perhaps we are gone to be
in a season of the flying ants
in a bogon moth rare year
there’s someone shouting over the day
one note over and over again
call
it summer now
the
headful of light
it’s
only the odd thought falls to us here
my
page as blank as a leaf
you
could catch a stillness here
2470
7.277
6.x.26
you’ll
be sorry
ekphrastic
for John Molvig’s 1956 ‘Bride and Groom’
to
speke of wo that is in mariage
– Chaucer’s Wife of Bath
it’s just this one day dress up
arrive in this armour
it’s with the broad brush
made indistinct
never been in a suit
this is first white formal hire
and what’s a mouth for?
who’ll say?
these are the eyes of doubt
here’s a moment
tin cans tied on
shhh... slips away
I do I do I did I won’t
chartreuse suburban
a world of blur
hands of corpses these are
just touch and I’ll be true
