the Fitzroy Flasher

art and ideas: photos and words: mainly and sometimes.

The dusty air Is warm My throat is dry And you and I We’re in overalls On the bank Of an ancient river Waiting for rain That we can smell Waiting … For so long we Start talking tall Of sea creatures Anemones Sounds like Enemies We collapse Laughing To unforgiving earth As rain falls …

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Tears tease my face – Pressed into my hand – Propped by an elbow On a window frame. Cars pass steadily as Dandenong Rd comes and goes like an old mate Familiar but much changed. Arriving early – I take in the stillness And silence – The smell of the heat wave the creaking pews …

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Bring back the old days: When we had progress going for us Idealised hope for inclusivity Cos we knew more and thought more And saw the world of difference and embraced it And I was sorely mistaken: I thought you embraced me Yet your arms fell to your side and my body slipped away And I fell …

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Sleep-ins foil good intentions As the sun gives rise and servitude to Christmas Day I flick the kettle on and spy The sacrificial honeyed ham In an overloaded fridge That strains to cool the Offerings that hours later Will fill a lace tablecloth And the good plates And the Tupperware And landfill And… My spiral …

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How many memories begin with Cicadas, Or dancing Santa’s deflating to bend double, Kissing dirt whilst reindeers staunchly idle, And lawn mowers hit gum nuts that crackle, And the grass smells fresh and sweet. A Christmas cacophony good enough to eat.

Delivered hard, In short words, And long pauses. To my surprise She’s caught me: Full headlights Frayed rope Doe eyes and Misplaced passion. A photogenic instant, Outside of any comfort: My abandoned hope A heated cattle prong A silent fear, this swan song. That I think will end me. I want to hear ‘I love …

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