Things I’ve Heard about It

The Things I’ve Heard about It.

It is a cancer.

It is not a cancer.

You will not die from it.

You will die with it.

It is the cancer you want to have

if you have to have a cancer.

It is indolent. Lazy.

And that strange name.

Long as the name of a Welsh railway station.

Waldenstrom macroglobulinaneamia.

Try saying that in one breath.

Whew.

  • pic courtesy of Wikipedia

Kiss Curl

Kiss Curl .

I love the way the wind

plays with my hair

when I whisk along the road

windows wound down

twirls my comb-over

into a kiss curl

like Bill Hayley in the fifties.

Rock around the clock, baby.

*pic courtesy of pinterest

Surly

Surly.

Bono looks surly.

Putting him beside a book called ‘Euphoria’

did it.

Bono feels anything but.

Euphoric, that is.

He’s been languishing on the Express Shelf

for three weeks

while books all around him have been flying

off the shelf.

‘Pissed’ is closer to the mark

as in ‘Pissed off’.

Bono is not used to this sort of treatment.

I would take him home myself

but I already have.

If the book was as lean and finely crafted

as a U2 song

it’d be different.

But it is as bloated as a Pynchon novel.

Please Don’t Stare

Please Don’t Stare.

It’s not as bad as the horns

on Hellboy’s head

even when filed down to stubs

or the protrusions

on Elephant Man’s face

or that raspberry stain the shape of Africa

on the barista’s cheek that day in the mountains

but the volcanic cone,

a miniature Vesuvius,

on my forehead

is an eye popper

and looks like it’s about

to go off.

  • pic courtesy of Wikipedia

Gone

Gone

Admittedly it ranks a little lower

than the mystery of the Marie Celeste.

missing Malaysia Flight  A 370

or the disappearance of the Beaumont children

at our local beach on Australia Day

half a century ago

But I still want to know

what happened

to my snazzy blue, gold trimmed vest

I got for Xmas and took off for a shave

on Boxing Day

I only took it off for a minute

so I wouldn’t get it grubby.

Where did it go?

Where’s My Bear

Where’s My Bear?

I’m not myself today.

I wasn’t myself yesterday either.

Where are you? she says. Where’s my Bear?

I’m still here, I say.

No, you look like him but you’re not Bear. Go away.

So I do.

Back to my little cubby house in the ‘burbs.

I think of her. I miss her. The good times we had.

Perhaps I have been a little sloppy, solipsistic.

I send her a card. Anyone can send a text.

She texts back. I call.

Come over, Bear. I miss you.

I buy her a bouquet of long stemmed oriental lilies.

We cuddle. We kiss. Like bears.

We have found each other.

*pic courtesy of pinterest

In the wee small hours

Someone’s been out in the garden

between the evening and the dawn.

I wonder what it was.

A rabbit or a fawn?

Yes, someone’s been in the garden

in the depths of the dark.

Someone fleet and nimble

who have left their mark.

Someone’s been in the garden

before the day was born —

the Xmas elf of Davis Court? —

& from their roots all weeds have torn,






			

Stunned and Panicky

Stunned and Panicky

I wake up suddenly

stunned and panicky

like a ‘roo caught in the headlights

of a big rig

an eighteen wheeler

tunneling thru the darkness.

My senses are all rinsed.

I leap out of bed

into the hysterical light of morning

pour myself a coffee

settle back into my little

skew whiff home.

  • pic courtesy of pinterest

Water Towers

Water Towers

To the uninitiated , mysterious as

the moon monoliths in 2001 ;

pensioned off light-houses ? a giant’s

apartment house or a giant

phallus set in cement , a reminder

to the young colony —

populate or perish ? they come in

all shapes and sizes ; rise

suddenly from the landscape like

mushrooms with their long

stalks and caps yet exist singly —

it is houses that cluster

around them ; scattered around the

countryside they are tall

as wheat silos though their bellies

seem full of water

but why windows — for fish to peer

through ? or doors — what if

someone should break in ? only the tops

hold water , I am told ,

like a water tank on a stand ; largely

redundant , now they are

being sold off like unwanted churches ;

yet I consider them ,

their brief reign ; for me they always

held more than water

  • pic courtesy of Wikipedia