Category: We Will Disappear (page 2 of 3)

My debut collection of poetry was published in 2007 by papertiger media. Read more about the book in my portfolio.

Let’s fight the pop-ups!

meddling kids with their internet
pop-ups planting jitches in those
unexpected drum /fill up my crevice
moments inevitably doomed to fall
between their terminals of thunder
& the beginnings of the jaundice /
plague its down on hands & hips
& back to feeling aghast my baby
lives on a pop-up page we shudder
tho my slax stained with mustard
tell me sadder tales – its possible
avoid computers made entirely of
mould dont mention mousetraps
in this house a typewriters warm
key tapped a la morse plastique
i dont know french but i louvre
what youre doing with that jim
& please consider joining me for
a snack yes or a mid-morning TV
advertisement you know at least
they dont pop up like some brat
on amyl well i could go on but i
dont want to mention the names
now that my password has been
hijacked by a kid with two brains

A veteran of the club scene

panic on the streets of south
yarra geez they shut us down
when im peaking its a ripoff
shits been cut with something
maybe brain juices? not mine
got the tipoff said get rid of
em ages ago i loved to dance
though dont seem to have the
energy anymore im still here
propping up a legendary club
foot & nose patches stop the
bleeding bring on peace man
& another buggered recovery
whatever that means i forgot
my own name monday what a
bore youse young freaks just
dont understand we all need
a little helping hand to the
hot water dispensers if only
theyd mix it with cordial ah
those good old halcyon nites
hiya girls! ok sure hop in its
back to mine just let me say
you are you are a wonderful
repeat wonderful person yeah

Post-holocaust tram

& if on reaching Hiroshima Station
You step off a bullet & wander out
Into the aftermath: a diorama for
Which you have no name yet here

At the beginning of your tranquil
21st century journey by tram these
Tracks that hold you upright squeak
& scream with sixty years of shame

Like destiny still wooden carrying
That horsey scent rattles somehow
They survived beneath the epicentre
A direct hit on their infrastructure

(Where it hurts) for which you are
Now paying your share ironically
At the exit in this civilised space
& there are no inspectors merely

Crayon drawings speaking of those
Inconceivable first days lingering
Gamma rays & the resumption of
Normal services forty eight hours

Post Enola Gay on track (where it
Hurts) all the fragmented sitting
Neatly on their familiar wooden
Racks barely bandaged the tram

Just trundles onwards oblivious
To the empty pockets too reliable
To demand a fare circling round
& round atomic boxcars have no

Final destination beyond the zero
Round & round an invisible coin’s
Clatter nobody’s talking nothing’s
Moving – & nobody’s getting off

suicide airliner attacks

softly softly through our krystallnacht
geyser bowser crack pop-offs just relax
black north face seventies teevee slack
hostesse with remote test tubes bivouac
jack in at five with first asthma snaps
vacate laps tool the tried anagrama bat
an independent way the roadsteads whack
in maple lanes the seaside pretzel flak
emergency hammer laden with drugged axe
sues me sonnys walk man pow wow attacks
we know the atlantic like no other macs
anoraks swear blur philip k dick smacks
disaster prediction no longer paperback

Spring*


spring wrapped in shrouds feel the desperation 
of my punches in our daydreams* 
speak to us without 
mouths bruised harmonies 
   
your soft sounds reach but do not enter me yet 
you are a frozen river & i a boat*
ice-locked & vengeful
spewing steam

the moment your word becomes a bird & takes flight
even rumour turns on like the truth*
painted on a window 
thunder pines
   
spring you are a curl of smoke blown diagonally 
& a forest shot through with vapour trails*
or bullets that tremble 
sunlight hammers 
   
a thousand restless revolutions in your wings
when i sleep a child is born*
not knowing how to run 
not in my dream

& you'll come again soon like a rain of stones 
against the doorway of my love*
ajar but your sweetness & 
light!—I cry out!
 


Forthcoming in Southerly (3/2004)