I’m not shaking to music
or trying to dance my way out
of the cup rolling in the saucer.
There’s Blues in the shuffle allright;
a soundtrack that blew the amp
cut the circuit at the wrong wire –
didn’t guess it right.
Instead it went off all over me,
the pulse misfiring.
Translation’s lost on the Earl Grey;
departing my hand again
like a squirming baby
not wanting the distant relative’s
skinnier gripping care.
Among the first pieces published.
The editor emailed me the morning it was published to let me know she had breakfast with her sister who is a GP and explained the poem to her from a totally different perspective from which she had read it. The sister was correct. I’m glad the editor chose it anyway, we all see something different to each other.
First published in The Age and The Sydney Morning Herald May 24, 2014
The Leviathan’s Apprentice 2015.
Available on all sites.
Painting Raoul Dufy Floral Composition with Amaryllis, courtesy The Red List.
James Walton Poetry 