Ah, love sister Falling, fragile You knocked on my door and Told me it’s been raining
Ah, yeah sister It’s been raining here too And like you I know How much it costs to commit To ten thousand more rainy days
Ah, sweet sister I’m happy this secret’s not strange What? you demand Why, sister You know Just, how we are both so bloody brave
This love affair is gallery stares It moves at gallery paces Wide eyed, bedroom-still We study each other’s faces
This love affair is a sweet duet Timed exactly right Shivering like two strings plucked Two notes for a warm Spring night
This love affair is the words in a book Bold and lovingly penned Unfolding and unfurling Beginning, middle and end
Shifting warmth Low exposure smiles Inches apart Small hour calm
Weights and surfaces Traversing touches Faint potentials A love, made to fit
Scenes, little close ups Lips, hair, liminal airs Still lifes in pillow forts Dimly lit shorts
Between lens changes Interleaved sensations Little pockets of time We film with our eyes
I turn over your words in my head, The words you sung to me. From the other side of the world— Your bed.
I revolve in my mind, your kind, Your voice,
Its tenor, Its strain, Its refrain.
Many hatted mad men, Absent of certain sensibilities That you and I gentle reader Consider.
What other worlds revolve around ours That we do not reach for, That orbit us and spend Periods Behind our backs and out of our sight.
What vicious beast did you survive That left you with wounds like that? What vicious beast pried the warmth from your chest? What vicious beast did you best?
I’ve fought some too, perhaps not like you Though I would like to know…
Was it a lost boy with a pale face Who would trace your streps Who would silently chase Who would keep apace By standing closer every day Your attentions strayed?
Pale lips flex her slim ivory face. I imagine her life translucent, Travelling calmly by capillary force Along the sheltered side of potted leaves, Lit by ambient sun.
How foreign, that sun! Mine hurts. I thrust it On enemies or I eat it. It burns me with love for clamorous women Heroines with vicissitudes, Who had babies Or never had babies, Ones with scars, ones mid-chapter. Oh my heart. Viragos Who build themselves out of glass Every morning from shards they find in their beds.
Your smile is as fitting as your shape when sitting on mine. Your toes in the throws I’d spy and be thrilled by their curl, Their stutter, Their whimpering sigh.
Painted faces, Filigree bracelets, By the light of the chandelier. Hemmed curves, To be observed, A handsome man to be interned, Perfumed hair, Fluted glasses, A handsome man is making passes. Hunger masked, Who will he ask, Please look at me look at me look at me.
Oh bitch, please! A man so conceived Will drunkenly fumble with you, then leave; The picture of sadness your face will be. But perhaps that’s how you’ll learn, like me, That the woman in life with happiness truest Is not she who has the most men, but the fewest.
I love you very dearly But baby even I Need to get my tax done Yearly
Dear atheists why, do you think the sky Is falling cos people dig steeples? It’s galling Occam’s Razor’s not cool when fools forget It’s a heuristic tool to rate your ideas Not hate on your peers Even if they’re God fearing swill Take a pill Please chill Don’t let bigotry run uphill
Stabbing at leaves at ten in the morning Standing on your front lawn yawning Beige slacks and a polo shirt at ten Tuesday morning in sunshine and Ralph Lauren
“Hi,” she says with sparkling eyes “Are you coming in your car? “I want to know if you live nearby. “See if you can dance with me!” Stone cold I can feel the air on my bones Where she leans in—skin warmth hair her air I run I try “Oh God, I’m so “I’m so so sorry, I’m sorry, the time.”
Shutdown, baby, your stars are shuttered It pains me to say, but your mother’s insane She’s wonking away, so she can buy time to play more Need I say more? She’s not to be trusted with things Like you And me Starlight, here, Take these wings.
The pitch black of his room His own raised hand Floating up, floating down, floating up, floating down Briney gritty echoes of sand Flotsam jetsam shadowed underpasses Coins notes grimy bus stop stares Stripy shirts thick rimmed glasses A ringed finger curling a strip of wet hair Slender fingers on a clerk’s cash box Unbidden compressions of air
I used to be cool by the pool Now I drool on a stool I’m the lull in the visits my visitors pay
By the window I wait I extrapolate This existence, the minutes, the hours, the days
In my day children were raised in a box With nothing to play with but splinters and socks. What creativity such props would inspire! Socks! Chanting around a splintery pyre, Sock puppet theatres, splintery stages, Torturing socks with splinters in childlike rages!
Nowadays children have Mobile Devices, Minecraft, Scribblenauts and other such vices. How can they learn, how can they function? Using dinguses without compunction. They lack the appalling boredom and shame That made me the man I am today!
Shop about, Dear Indian student, to learn A profession’s ins and outs.
Don’t come to Australia, We’re racists here— Xenophobic and ruled by fear.
Take your gap year, Dear Canadian peers, Somewhere enlightened. Of Australia, stay clear. It’s weird, My commonwealth friends, but I note We torture people who come here by boat.
We send ’em to islands with disease and rapers And if someone faked papers, Lord help them! For fleeing From terror, they’ve errored. Now illegal human beings, People here think the government’s not doing enough To be inhumanely brutally rough.
To this meet I am goin’ Geoff’s throwin’ With Rain It’s at this place that’s kinda hard to explain It’s a style of building you don’t see a lot If you’re not from Telstra or the communist bloc This darkly stained tower where we hold our meet? Is a mixture of Kubrick and browned cobblecrete You guessed it, it’s your favourite, it’s the UTS tower But is it the true seat of UTS power?
shit shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck i wanted necro or potm or puck or doom or pa or even es zeus lina axe huskar or anyone else look at his hillbilly shit eating grin and with my skill at micro? we ain’t gonna win i’ll be standing in lane with my view distantly farming a camp while I’m ganked mercilessly my team’s gonna hate me for poofing about with the speed of a frozen fish fillet with gout