A Long Angry Pair of Trousers

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You could hear them growling

as they came up the street

bristling with fury

mumbling obscenities

the long angry pair of trousers.

They were rumpled.

They were crumpled.

They had had a bad night.

They did not want to be there.

On him.

Anywhere butt.

They were positively scopophobic

but he didn’t get it.

so they squinched his anatomy.

soiled the cuffs.

Had he not noticed?

But they were all he had

So he wore them

Those long angry pair of trousers.

 

Heatwave

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Yesterday was really something.

A race to the top after five grueling days.

It was like a marathon.

The bureau reported, almost gleefully,

we had done it! we had broken the previous record.

It almost made it worthwhile.

The hottest day in the State’s history!

Yet people kept their cool

Even when the grid crashed.

Emergency Services stayed on top of things.

No one died.

We phoned each other.

Are you okay? We asked.

Yes! I’m okay, I barked after the tenth inquiry.

I was losing my cool.

Other states get floods, fires.

We get heatwaves.

By morning the cool had come.

We waved the heat goodbye.

 

have you experienced similar conditions?

what’s the worst weather conditions you experienced?

 

Who Would Do That?

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Who would do that?

Put a dead pigeon in yr rubbish bin?

If it was good enough

To put in my bin

Why wasn’t it good enough

To put in theirs?

O the stink,

The weight of it!

I shovelled it out of the bin

And tossed it,

Neck all crumpled,

Into the far right hand corner of the garden

Where it could decay

In dignity

Among the cluster of leaves.

The only good thing is

It’s given me something rancorous

To write about.

 

have you had any incidents with neighbors or strangers re your rubbish bins?

Who’s in Charge Here, Anyway?

 

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My body alarms me.

It rings two or three times a night.

Who’s in charge here anyway?

Poetry flowed from me

Like water from a garden hose.

Days were diamonds.

My feet horses’ hooves.

Nothing defeated me.

I was sharp as Sherlock.

Prolific as Zola.

I had two hounds.

The wheels turn.

Accept, my friend tells me, Embrace.

Loss is gain.

Now is the new normal.

The Stain

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The wine had been sitting in the glass

for three hot days

when I poured it

down

the

sink

& saw the stain

it left

on the side:

a sigil

a rune-like mark

Of some sort,

representing

Angel or demon,

Benediction

Or curse?

The drinker’s version of ‘the writing

on the wall’?

A message from another world?

I look at it long

Unsettled.

Perplexed.

 

what does it look like to you?

Two Moons

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.Look, she says. Look. There are two moons tonight. Do you think that means anything?

Like end times, you mean?

I don’t know, she says. It can’t be good.

We move closer. There they are above the rooftops, one higher and to the right of the other.

Someone in the ranch-style house switches the porch light on and joins us.

My ex-wife phoned, he says. She saw it too. She’s bit of a sky watcher.

So we stand there out the front as one then the other veer off in a north-easterly direction, silent and glowing as moons.