Every muscle aches, ones I didn’t know I had Beams across each palm where the bare handle sunk in I flipped out at the machine, barged it past points it seized Pushed and threw my might against it’s primitive, stubborn controls The grass outside is a mess You can’t say it’s not cut But you can’t say it’s better The miniature meadow with warm hued flowers bobbing on still green waves Tall weeds, made grand amongst their peers Shed their stigma, they aren’t ashamed here Grasshoppers in camouflage and lost ladybirds An eyeless striped caterpillar climbs to the peak of a bowing blade Curls up to the sky, extending to stretch, basking in the sunlight I cut it all down Not cleanly, not gracefully Arduous and ugly, thrashing and hacking I only hope this gave them all time to flee To feel the rumble of the end and take one last look at their home To feel lucky to have absorbed some measly beauty in such a short life It will grow back soon enough for me, a creaking pain to tend to But for them it will never exist again
Changing Gear
The train flew past And I wasn’t in my seat This time I drove right past the station From a loud room, with the breeze Gust along control Through years passed and received Scared to change gears for my dad But now who’ll do it if not me? Here to be dropped Into our small ponds, now we swim We grew up into fins then legs To climb out and wade in again Between flashes The city looks unchanged to me And it’s dumb but I feel sad When there’s not time to walk lonely Through neighbourhoods that keep Their old meanings quietly And I’ll try to distill an old feeling That’s only the same in the memories Grown to accept the hand-me-downs You’re so surprised I’m in new shoes And I love having dry feet But not as much as I love you We’ll take it all And it’ll be all that we feared And we’ll do it so willingly Momentarily feels weird And then just is Tumble back onto our feet The portraits still the same But their backdrops slowly creep Conveyer belt context The shading shifts to throw new light Onto dormant pains inside us And certainty into night Watch the scenery fly faster Until you’re hurtling alone The meaning slips loose and past you And barrels lost into the unknown Grasp into white-hot new Reach into terrifying change That as it holds your life in it’s jaws The devouring dimension makes seem tame
The Last Day Of June
Today I fell into a pit. Today I ate too much spicy food. Today I didn’t sing very well. Today I listened to all my artefacts. Today I woke up early and left the house late. Today I let the hours slip through my fingers. Today I picked the wrong side of the road to walk home on. Today I ate my whole lunch bag too early. Today my guitar didn’t sound in tune. Today my pedal said it was. Today I looked at maps. Today I copied graphs. Today I spoke some wise words from dark times. Today I noticed the painting hung above the stairs. Today I cancelled abandoned meetings. Today I saw too much. Today I couldn’t look away. Today my head spun like an umpire’s. Today my sandwich had yellow pepper. Today I smacked pillows and blankets. Today I learnt about our videos. Today I consumed our videos. Today I stapled a chunky report. Today I took my time writing a long address on a large envelope. Today my handwriting was tall and nearly neat. Today I lined up the red stamps. Today I curled the envelope to force it past the narrow postbox mouth. Today nothing happened in the small square outside the window. Today I batted a ping pong ball to the beat of my headphones. Today I heard far away voices through my headphones. Today I started my sentence without unmuting my mic first. Today I flicked out short emails. Today the backs of my legs went numb for a while. Today the screen of my hand-me-down phone stayed on for too long. Today I let too much of the wide world into my own atmosphere. Today rush hour felt more rushed than it has. Today a delivery driver materialised from nowhere down a quiet side street. Today gnarled men sped their bikes off the parkway and into the crowded crossing. Today they scared the silent lady next to me and laughed at her as they passed. Today the other guy plowed ahead juggling tennis balls. Today three people waiting at a crossing feels crowded. Today my teeth didn’t thank the water cooler. Today I ate numerous home-baked cookies. Today I saw a magpie. Today our neighbour’s cat watched me as I reached my front door. Today I woke up two minutes before my alarm. Today I showered but didn’t wash my hair. Today my book sat in my backpack unread. Today my hands smell of red spring onions. Today I enjoyed taking off my shoes and socks. Today I opened the window and listened to the birds call across the valley. Today I didn’t spend any money. Today is the last day of June.
Terrifying Dreams Of Dysfunctional Routines
Sticky dreams Of blown out bristles Fanning obtuse Becoming useless Worrying of rot Rotting of worry Tombstone teeth Sinking in pink swamp Still asleep Buried beneath Brushing hard Or hardly brushing Chewing up the stick From the rush, the constant sip Spit out something brown Sick up but hold it down Terrifying dreams Of dysfunctional routines Took the father Brushed him clean Used him up And not seen again In fresh sun rise Spittle wind Takes the mint leaves with it To cut copies of them Serve the breath Serve the mass Serve a purpose And then serve the trash A hopeful protogeau In the noble art of withering away
4 Haikus for a Rough Patch
1 Broken and it burns Hot rush difficult to hold Harder to smother
2 Burst and splintered rage Destroys us then dissipates Sometimes clears the way
3 Swallow heavy made It’s not each other we hate Late to understand
4 Can’t help but regret But without voice quiet anguish Silence is just it
5 Haikus for a Sprained Ankle
Five days spent sitting very still because you hurt yourself doing something stupid; try not overthinking it.
Day 1: Sprain
Time is short to dwell Until the inner tear swell Perspective is gained
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Day 2: Friend
Let me take your pain I have far more teeth to grit Let me let you rest
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Day 3: Limp
Do not recognize The freedom stored below thighs Clarity when lost
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Day 4: Bruise
Indigo erupts Can’t escape without a mark Pain fades, bruise remains
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Day 5: Body
You are built of parts Easy to disassemble Easy to forget
Quit Vision 