Eighties Film Clips

DepecheMode

He shows me Eighties film clips and we collapse back
upon a springy bed of teased hair – being there was even better
he says, but I contest the party’s still going.
He waited for me in a bathtub of beer
for twenty-four years
while I was getting my act together
but I no longer need to dread mornings.
We’re enemies like all good lovers,
staring into each other’s eyes
in that queer silence before the birds start singing.
I worry about what lies on the other side
of his decaying venetian blinds
but he tells me, there’s time. With him I’m more alive
than all the moments I’m sternly cooking spinach
or studying some austere poet. He shows me how to laugh
at myself, myself a part of him, himself hilarious.
Magnetic enough to draw all the pretty girls towards him;
stubborn enough to put love in a headlock –
the kind you can’t find in a brothel and not for lack of looking.
Our pairing is so much worse than it looks
and it doesn’t look good but I’ve never laughed so much
so I’ll stick around while the Bollinger’s still flowing
backstage in eternity’s green room.

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Another Day

anotherday

C’mon, give it up says the youngster
fearless in a way only the inexperienced
or foolish can be. He, a lumbering carcass of a man
disagrees. I’ve written the book on hindsight
he’d say if he weren’t asleep. She’s a child
he can’t quite remember committing to –
a drunk pledge that coalesced into three dimensions
overnight. Outside their skins, their shadow selves
bait each other like Siamese fighting fish
in electric water. How dare you make me live!
he screams before falling awake.
She’s the caretaker of this wasteland
sweeping bones on the periphery
of his madness. They’ll meet in the bedroom
at dawn, arms threaded like a wrecked
umbrella in a barren tree. They’ll succumb
to the shape of lovers then. A hallucination
worth inhabiting for another day, at least.

‘My Friend’s Mum’ in Cordite

At the risk of blaring my own trumpet, I have recently had a poem published in Cordite No Theme IV; edited by John Tranter.

The poem is called My Friend’s Mum and it was written while I was on holiday in Auckland late last year.

The mum and I are still on friendly terms (thank god!) but the hobo and I are not. C’est la vie.

This is the second time I’ve appeared in Cordite, which is leading me to suspect that I may be halfway decent at this poetry thing. It’s also the second time that Mr Tranter has selected one of my poems for publication (the first was for The Best Australian Poems 2012).

Even better, Cordite No Theme IV also features a wonderful poem called Imaginary Cinema by my friend Miro Bilbrough. She’s amazing.

I’ve got a lot of stuff happening right now, but some new poetry should be appearing soon. Stay tuned. 🙂