Semi naked by Winter late


I have had to prune the tree magnolia
those dinner plate china flowers
swamping shade over everything

and the calligraphy of sun on my back
mixes the air to a fine point exotica

by the incessant call of relentless waves
behind the big dunes now puffed up
those wedges of agent’s fists and knuckles

holding close for the Southern Ocean
correspond secrets of salt and lemon juice

unnatural oil used to loosen secateurs
and saw teeth herringbones filed for birth
short and long instruments to scribe

mission flybys of honeyeater bursts
where the saw shavings drift to settle

within this picture frame day
a snapshot of life by August random
over a butter toast and jam relay

shaken grains a short litter for doves
midriff afternoon of Spring near revelation

a shirt off for the first time in 30 years




A sketch of me, by an artist friend.
Probably six years ago, and eerily looking like Bukowski!






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