Significant poets
before me
were sorcerers

their work would
until it became

the architecture
of your mind.

Whereas I try
to perform miracles
but am thwarted

by a menagerie
of squawking words
that never resound

like the old masters
who wrote their
lifeblood upon the page.


Father could be
a complete bastard

an expert
at humiliation

he knew
I was impractical

I was a useless

who couldn’t fix
a burst tyre

whereas he could
build cars

was so much more
life savvy than I

who frankly reeked
of disappointment

being only able
to conjure

some silly words
when nobody cared

for reading
or writing

preferring Father’s
particular set of skills.


A black hearse
is pulled up
outside the house

where the old crone
died. I’d not seen her
rambling out

to the shops
with her hemp bag
and sack coat

I usually hid
behind lamp posts
so she’d not

accost me
with trivial small talk.
Now I wish I’d taken time

to listen
to understand
her peculiar world view

lights years removed
from my liberal socialist

things hatched
in another century
now erased.


For a minority group
the best way
to honour
an indigenous festival

is with noise.
To get respected
to rattle the colonial

a proper brouhaha
will get one noticed.
A good street brawl
the revving of motorcycles

shall discomfort
the ruling majority
whose time is ebbing away
now we make ripples.


I have no tread
on my soles

my scrappy goatee
collects rime

I cast a dour shadow
in front of me

there’s a discoloured lump
upon my left thigh

but nothing will

my writing
which shall flower

as magnificently
as the frost crystals

on this fabulously hale
December morning.


temperatures plunged

there is ice
on the sidewalk

a skater’s dream
but at my age

I fear a fall
a smashed hip

that shan’t mend
but shall take me

to the grave
on a spectacular morning

such as this


I love the way
rainwater gurgles down
to gutters

reaching drains
clogging them
with dead leaves

cigarette wrappers
so there is a
swirling maelstrom

which floods
onto the road
meaning passing cars

hose pedestrians
already drenched through
victims of the downpour.