watching things that spin
of its own volition fans
the wheels on overturned bikes (flying over)
toy trucks
light switches on and off (linear causality
and control). find the house lit up like a Christmas tree.

a GP quickly ‘who dis’
appeared into another room
while the eye was distracted.

moving water at sunset twirling
down Kingscliff, where sister Lisa lived.
dealing with the underlying anxiety,
bewaring the pop-up effect!

look up, lights on and off
linear causality control
flight, stars
caught on some wind
watching things that spin
of their own volition

(I want to call this first part, Poem For Michael. But I have to check with Michael’s mum.

Right, like you are looking him
straight, in the eye of the
obvious, hustling pool in
the Pineapple Hotel

pools of strange languid creatures
for whom the function of colour is
not abstraction but attraction

nines’in the corner pocket declared
thus tacitly doubling the risk

crossing the bar
always a complex
exercise in skiff
w/- crosswind
the barrister lying
in with his new tax free
dime a half hour reward which
licked its tongue
into the corners of the evening,

]

The hole is more than the sum of its planets.

Those heart starters are wild. Anyway, I found peace in immunity to deliberate provocation. A moment’s thought untyped. Without font as it were. I saw many go mad, quite literally and others fight till they were carried off somewhere. Returning only to be photographed on a balcony overlooking the sea, a wide hat, sunglasses, her collar turned up against the breeze and turning to me, there’s plenty of space between impro and discipline it seems, and smiling.

unless you are a practioner of the dark arts emerging
schmooze leadened sense
from Bowen Hills
highhat bass and most important
esoteric referensh
perhaps in sullen sluggish chains led
regretful wriggling uncomfortable on its claws
look for two most
unexpected arrivals
rival twice
then be gone

The trees were aggregations of uncertain light, shade and air transpired from leaves to drift across the plains, congregations, and composed has three meanings. Beneath this tree I am composed.

I do not like the hippos, she says, peeling a mandarin. They are as though the earth spites itself. If you were wise as this fruit you would reshape the world and remove these unnecessary prepositions and conjunctions.

The natives, those not in exile in other words, are unbuilding the church. The walls are neatly stacked timber, the space once framed by windows has escaped into the sky. Occasionally they look over at us and laugh.

I am tired. If wishes were kisses she says taking my hand and indian cowboys rode tigers at night. In the evening the plane will appear on the horizon and then it will be said that all airs once composed have now transpired.