athlete’s foot
in a public pool changing room
golden staph
on the operating tools
a rampant std
in a music festival port-a-loo
the itch you feel like scratching
until you bleed
a miley cyrus sex tape
only poetry
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
holy mary
a pregnant kid
knocking doors on a donkey
with the real daddy
nowhere to be seen
today / mary wd be just another
irresponsible teen
shamed
disowned
& stigmatised
with all kinds of dirty jokes
about who else she had been riding
i know a mary
in fact
i know two
mary lives next door to me
& another serves fries at the local KFC
a swollen bellied brown girl
desperate to make ends meet
greasy fingered gossip
over faux mash & gravy:
wow / that chick is about to lay an egg
she must be about / what / fifteen
how the hell does that shit even happen
mary does a little table service then
for free
knocking doors on a donkey
with the real daddy
nowhere to be seen
today / mary wd be just another
irresponsible teen
shamed
disowned
& stigmatised
with all kinds of dirty jokes
about who else she had been riding
i know a mary
in fact
i know two
mary lives next door to me
& another serves fries at the local KFC
a swollen bellied brown girl
desperate to make ends meet
greasy fingered gossip
over faux mash & gravy:
wow / that chick is about to lay an egg
she must be about / what / fifteen
how the hell does that shit even happen
mary does a little table service then
for free
Saturday, November 5, 2011
raising the bowl
for ramone hendry
you were just a little guy
past twelve months
maybe close to eighteen
& i said i'd look after you
you cried
for exactly sixty-seven seconds
then smiled
& turned to me
blonde eyebrow raised
as if to say:
well then brown lady
with the round baby face
i guess it’s just
you & me
dismantling every disliked toy
patting the ones that you agreed with
raising the bowl
when you wanted more
trying to scribble
on everything in reach
solid & stubborn
fair & funny
fierce beyond belief
even then we knew / ramone
what kind of boy you’d be
you were just a little guy
past twelve months
maybe close to eighteen
& i said i'd look after you
you cried
for exactly sixty-seven seconds
then smiled
& turned to me
blonde eyebrow raised
as if to say:
well then brown lady
with the round baby face
i guess it’s just
you & me
dismantling every disliked toy
patting the ones that you agreed with
raising the bowl
when you wanted more
trying to scribble
on everything in reach
solid & stubborn
fair & funny
fierce beyond belief
even then we knew / ramone
what kind of boy you’d be
lip-sync
like the term lip-sync
i mean
seriously
why does it even exist
if people were any good at it
we'd think they were singing
it wd be such an industry secret
there wouldn't even be
a term for it
i mean
seriously
why does it even exist
if people were any good at it
we'd think they were singing
it wd be such an industry secret
there wouldn't even be
a term for it
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
This is What Democracy Looks Like: An Occupy Everywhere Poem
they’re chanting: this is what
democracy looks like / this
is what democracy looks like
this / is what democracy looks like
apparently it’s megaphoned
& volatile
& white
it’s disorganised
& educated
& doesn’t stay the night
& volatile
& white
it’s disorganised
& educated
& doesn’t stay the night
democracy sets up colonies
wherever it sees fit
speaks the language of occupation:
& democracy isn’t that big
it cd be a tad delusional
about what it might achieve
but it takes more than
batons / blood / & brawn
to force democracy to leave
wherever it sees fit
speaks the language of occupation:
& democracy isn’t that big
it cd be a tad delusional
about what it might achieve
but it takes more than
batons / blood / & brawn
to force democracy to leave
democracy is righteous
it is angry
& it is rambling
democracy is earnest
bt sure needs help with chanting
it is angry
& it is rambling
democracy is earnest
bt sure needs help with chanting
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