myrtle jean (version 2)
She is sitting in a recliner rocker,
grey eyes stare blankly beyond.
A purple lap rug that bears her name covers hips replaced years ago.
Blue-grey hair, once fashioned into proud curls, hangs limply against her scalp. Her shoulders shrug forward,
no longer expectant.
Without warning arthritic hands grasp her skirt.
Curved and worn fingers, now nimble in action execute flawless pleats.
Her mind is ticking again.
The fabric is folded in perfect centimeter-wide batches and just as quickly dropped.
The task forgotten.
Shoulders hang.
“How’s Hilda” she asks. Her eyes don’t budge from the blank canvas in front of her.
“Hilda’s past Mum.” This script has been rehearsed a thousand times before.
It’s a Tuesday, but who cares.
The lights are dim here everyday.
I walk the cold corridor in search of Myrtle Jean’s missing ugg boot.
grey eyes stare blankly beyond.
A purple lap rug that bears her name covers hips replaced years ago.
Blue-grey hair, once fashioned into proud curls, hangs limply against her scalp. Her shoulders shrug forward,
no longer expectant.
Without warning arthritic hands grasp her skirt.
Curved and worn fingers, now nimble in action execute flawless pleats.
Her mind is ticking again.
The fabric is folded in perfect centimeter-wide batches and just as quickly dropped.
The task forgotten.
Shoulders hang.
“How’s Hilda” she asks. Her eyes don’t budge from the blank canvas in front of her.
“Hilda’s past Mum.” This script has been rehearsed a thousand times before.
It’s a Tuesday, but who cares.
The lights are dim here everyday.
I walk the cold corridor in search of Myrtle Jean’s missing ugg boot.
small town
Even though my heart is still long gone
it’s still there
small town with you.
I forget the streets but I
know them like the back of my hand.
I let go of memories that nestle close
though I kept them at bay.
There’s something in the water
in your windy city that
I left behind.
Something in my heart that dwells
in different places now.
Names that linger and make me laugh
I shed my feathers when
I’m small town with you.
it’s still there
small town with you.
I forget the streets but I
know them like the back of my hand.
I let go of memories that nestle close
though I kept them at bay.
There’s something in the water
in your windy city that
I left behind.
Something in my heart that dwells
in different places now.
Names that linger and make me laugh
I shed my feathers when
I’m small town with you.
brunch in fitzroy
(Snippet from Brunch in Fitzroy')
... it’s all quite peculiar you see
sight clouded by the conveniences in the attraction
you fed your ideas to your
rhododendrons
and reminisce of those days
back then
from that inner city
abode.
... it’s all quite peculiar you see
sight clouded by the conveniences in the attraction
you fed your ideas to your
rhododendrons
and reminisce of those days
back then
from that inner city
abode.
that’s all
It’s silly
when I
like your mittens
and I’m three dollars short for
Your attention
And when it comes down to it,
it’s tragic the way I swan around
like an awkward kitten
trying to be feline.
That’s all.
here
In that sun
I almost burst
Laughter spewing
Like the drunken
Nights before
And it’s just
Ok
I’m good and I’m
Here. Not a million miles away like I can be
When you saunter through and I say to myself
Oh
No
And I’m smiling
because it’s all so fucking funny really.
I almost burst
Laughter spewing
Like the drunken
Nights before
And it’s just
Ok
I’m good and I’m
Here. Not a million miles away like I can be
When you saunter through and I say to myself
Oh
No
And I’m smiling
because it’s all so fucking funny really.
turn
You’re there
and I say ‘come closer’
but you can’t
Your leg between my thighs
I can’t turn
for fear it will be over
much much too soon.
and I say ‘come closer’
but you can’t
Your leg between my thighs
I can’t turn
for fear it will be over
much much too soon.
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