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 of knife wounds
on a rotting front porch
later they used tweezers to pull the fragments out
saving his parents some grief
when laid out for relatives to bathe,

from under the kitchen table
listening to women in scarves talk
my mother’s cigarette burns
to my hands were always accidental
I have to be sure of that.

Abandoned Soliloquies UnCollected Press 2019
Available Amazon, Lulu, Book Depository, all the platforms.
First published The Blue Nib Magazine 37, New Poetry , Fiction and Essays. Great Britain, March 2019.