Wednesday, April 07, 2004

away stuff

the aeroplane's welded tears
and the fat moon's goodbye
eye from sky-blacked north
twang with interrupted solos
a chorus gathered out of tarmacs
and linked diagrams
inflatable lifejackets
pointed out as necklaces
while the cabin manages
its own politesse


- that's coming back from Hobart, where you walk out to the plane across the tarmac. That seems old style and real instead of the twisting above-ground warrens they have at Sydney and Melbourne. All practice for The Big Trip on the 20th.



in interviews you're adding up
clauses, requirements
you must exclude
the setting in this autumn
an avenue of leaves
above voucher kiosks
veneered history, niches

the ice is coming no doubt
tho' every year it gets later
the letters after your name
recall the arcane
you need an inswing
to be plumb but light
trembles with resemblance


- the work I've been doing is helping individuals fill out applications (OK, it's a longer story than that but, for the sake of brevity ...) and this time I was sitting in a lovely warm room in an old stone building in the hub of Hobart's arts precinct overlooking the water. I chose to face away from the view.




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