A not so recalcitrant reader returns to Pride and Prejudice, Jane I remain Yours, &c.

My dear Lizzy if I may still be so boldafter 51 years of absence from Longbournexactitude being a virtue amongst friends,as it is to be precise as it is to be worthycan I speak of that struggle so containedby society’s rigours of want for decorum?Be assured I delight in the fortunesof the other Miss Bennetts … Continue reading A not so recalcitrant reader returns to Pride and Prejudice, Jane I remain Yours, &c.

Birthday Stereophonics of the Elder Kind

At times my body heatpresages combustion,but we’re in the Eye of Usthis constant iridescence,my VU bright litin the red corner. Going off like radiationa heart ticking boom,an amplifier out of modebut so mellow,the bass specificno matter how the EQ is justified. A kid’s month is a summer tortoisethe day a year of beach towels,before the … Continue reading Birthday Stereophonics of the Elder Kind

To an artist’s retrospective, Jindivick

doves banter the night throughmade sleepless by the south’s revivalcoming in hard pushing northern dust to groundmaking claim to earth again rain brings the splotchy ozone downthe ordinance of sky restored on the highland road puddles make nonsensetrees lift off closing roadsthe detour is a waft in fogwipers pout vain against humidity the navigating voice … Continue reading To an artist’s retrospective, Jindivick

High on the low down (even though I have to jump), reprise

in these streetsthey still play end to endand three goals in the old mine siren soundsat midday, every day,as though the shift will come up one coaled nationality the sea filled shafts on overflowtomorrow’s cars on nature stripsturbine shadows calling time sand dunes bleat for patienceturned over bellies sun upfine ground as bone and promise … Continue reading High on the low down (even though I have to jump), reprise

First, 1975

The first drive east. Out past dauntless newsuburbs scattered like a teenager’s room.Asleep in the future. All that aspiration watchingfrom the cosy dissemble of the city’s embrace,but curled like a cat, the tail flicking impatiently.My first car. The HD station wagonearly morning, no other traffic –the world in hibernation except for us.Pages turned quietly in … Continue reading First, 1975

At Gypsy Point

where the jetty meandersbrokeningly wadingin a high jumper’s roll,a pelican fills up the dayholding a reserve for tomorrowa word it regurgitates to reflectout of preening reminiscencethe savour of relivingtastes of feeding again whilst weary anglers returnsinging of old regretthat good times are a harvest,pooling about in undefined circlesand knowing it can flywherever the fancyor carefree … Continue reading At Gypsy Point