Boldrewood Parade

I think I finally see clearly out of those trespassed estate streets where the sounds of looking are dusted over by unmade roads like some early Drysdale, a veteran’s emphysema in a backyard shed skew whiff late afternoon shadows stretched children playing cricket the warty rabbitoh with all his skinned specials, next door’s son dying … Continue reading Boldrewood Parade

The I Know a Dead Mountaineer Society, Concedes : A new poem up at Bluepepper

The cherry wood honour roll burns air gasping for lettering a toast for scalers who bathed at the source of the Ganges just so they could divine is Atman Brahman an answer reaching for those beads of months without footing while Bach parades Air on a G String amid foothills of ever decreasing amplitude the … Continue reading The I Know a Dead Mountaineer Society, Concedes : A new poem up at Bluepepper