 |
| up Knight Street |
chit
chat
are
these people talking to themselves
some
of them look odd enough to be
day
release inhabitants of wards
mental
illness used to be a thing
now
it's all community response
able
bodied means can use a phone
what
is cracking up these days yourself
or
your line to them who’s handling you
swear
that person is avoiding us
talking
on their Moby Dick it’s sick
someone
should have words with them not me
half
a mind to but I’m misconstrued
every
time I try to make a point
feel
as though I’m speaking out of turn
 |
| waiting for the Magic |
conspiracy
theory
Newton
was an apple scrumping hound
Galileo
stole the telescope
Einstein
pulled a fast one Edison's
phonograph
stank
Jesus
had a circus act did good
business
till he copped a spear plans
plans
the best of mice & men what’s new
under
the sun
King
Canute kipped on the sand to prove
Superman
was not his middle name
though
he didn’t live a thousand years
still
going strong
fame
it's all a muggin's game as the
actress
said to Unctuous the Umpteenth
let
us pray you want me on all fours
wiggle
of bum
who
invented sex now there's yer man
patent
leather’s out of copyright
DNA
on snakes & ladders play
god
for a night
 |
| down Myrtle Street |
on
air
oh
the onus of that red
light
the cellos leant astride
double
basses hugged like tubs
violins
big
& small take five asides
horns
& woodwind hold their fire
timpani
& cymbals count
empty
beats
just
the chirpy cor anglais
playing
rustic catch-me-ups
swoop
of lark in dizzy flight
ecstasy
what’s
the maestro doing now
harmonious
scratch of head
bum
& better left unsaid
god
that’s lame
still
they clash in unison
every
instrument as one
time
to prosecute that long
pent-up
fart
 |
| Never let on! |
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