i’m not Building a House, though i
go Under them like a Low creek
i’m not Playing a role when My
de Facto hip hits the Stage or
bumps the Record my winding Mind
a human Feeling a mental Flexing
with a Whiff of dead bird Or mouse, to
the Discerning. i head to the Eternal
Verandah, discarding contortions and Blue
herrings. i Have a Diamond on my head
some Frost on my tail and Apple on my fangs
Turning’s what counts the Steady tone, transfixing
people with Ears and Winters under their
Belts. i drag my Belly through the dirt
yet am Clean enough by the Time i enter
the Australian literature library to Shed
my skin. i’m Always there always Travelling
shifting Shape, leaving a Wriggle where it’d
been Said was nothing or Maybe a trickle
long Dry. did i say I’m a feeling
a sober Mood part grim part True?
Without intent and yet with Business
to Attend to social Habits to
pursue and Contest at my Best i
wear a Helmet and a Nettle dress
perhaps you Saw me exit the Ocean
from your Eyrie or Unblessed yacht?
or Felt me enter your Swimmers while tanning
but That’s decades ago. i was Still
highly Pastoral then not So forgiving
now I’m ecumenical the Word of god
or Sod suits me Seduction itself’s
just Education or lies to Protect
the needy. Rest- lessness is my Mainstay
the Road as seen from an Alpine car
or cushioned Chair Risk need not be
forced. any Minute Momentum might be
blocked, or Random disrupted Joying
devolve to Vice and Spice my life
with Strikes or cut me Dead, how annoying