five wee poems
plastic footwear
in 1973, I lost
a red wellie
on a beach
somewhere
on Orkney.
yesterday
I lost a $20 note
and I thought about
that wellie
and the way my dad
sat slumped on a sand dune
like a man
who knows himself
too well
compromise
there’s something
I’ve been wanting to tell you,
my head hurts
in the morning
when you open the curtains
and pee with the door open,
that’s when I stop dreaming
about trains roaring through dusty stations
and wake up with somebody
who’s not you
packed lunch
I was lying
on the lawn
when you
crossed my mind.
you had on that jacket I like
and you told me
to get in the shade
before
I got sunburnt
thongs of praise
on the grass
in april
they’re blue, old
been around the world twice
sitting
side
by
side
ugly dead thing
when I fell over
this morning
out on the drive way
I saw a dead rat
under the car,
it was on its back
awful feet clenched
eyes slightly decomposed.
I lay there
until my friend came out
and asked me if I was ok.
‘yes’ I replied, ‘I’m ok’
‘that’s good’ he said, ‘sometimes
I worry about you’,
‘thank you’, I whispered
and got up
