The truck

The truck

The truck stops, week in, out, inconvenient in the striving street
regular, if payment is required
to collect the stock piles of baby puke and waste convenience
and plastic worn deliveries, slit and thrown

We’re not to blame

We’re not to blame

It’s not our fault, we’re not to blame
we’re just trying to maintain our freedom
we mine our dark materials, this is not a game
because there are other poor people who need ‘em

Why do I do it?

Why do I do it?

I don’t do it for you , so your thoughts can rest easy
as you nod in your pleasant agreement
while you sip on your drink, peculiar and queasy
at my anticipated long due achievement

One day closer every day

One day closer every day

Sheep droop jaw and hooves split in the stumble for the hay,
eager teeth picking at the stubble and the crust
Knees buckle their hollow humble eyes stare down and absorb
what was mud is now unsullied deep red dust

The sweet sweet sound

The sweet sweet sound

There’s a sweet sweet sound moving across the settled ground
it whispers in my ear in the morning
like a solitary breeze that whistles through the trees
and summons all the birds to cease their yawning

What are we made of?

What are we made of?

What are we made of? asks the child who cries
who just wants a toy she can play with
or to ask most politely before she dies
“is there someone out there I can stay with.”

The lifestyle you ordered

The lifestyle you ordered

The lifestyle you ordered is currently out of stock
our warehouse has been stripped of supplies
our people are working around the clock
to ensure you get your hands on the prize

Nothing Else Matters

Nothing Else Matters

The table for two is available now, once the staff clear the mess away
and the children stop their crying
mothers do their best at mothering and controlling the noise
we look on we know they’re trying

Lamingtons

Lamingtons

Lamingtons are cool,
lamingtons are a hit
I like eating lamingtons
more than just a bit

One day

One day

There’s a ghost selling memories down by the shore
as a jury decides its fate
there’s a man of religion knocking at my door
I need to lie down, he can wait.

The Failing Science

The Failing Science

At university I studied Economics, known, for good reason, as the dismal science. My tutor once asked the class for our definition of the subject we had enrolled in.

Dignity

Dignity

My Father taught me a few things, without of course, knowing that he was teaching me in the process. One of them involved my first post university job, or the attempt at landing one.