New Poems
This & That
(I cite myself)
Resting like a relic
in a field of meaning –
push the rocks around
for transformation –
gravel rash, scab, scar,
all
factors that
fall squarely.
(like that)
those well-known codes –
public-private continuum –
a surveyor’s tripod clacks –
the laneway, reduced
& framed,
is picturesque –
even the rubbish
appears artificial.
casual citations
accumulate,
ballooning
empirical tactics –
o no it’s
an index of anecdote
the hypermarket
surveillance camera
attempts its capture –
my nearly-beautiful
every dream,
my artificial memory
daily.
disease, elusive entity,
slithers.
pale gloved hands,
yet HIV negative.
the milky
ampule’s contents
swallowed –
waste management, the nightclub.
sleepless in a townhouse,
hours of
zonelessness.
(like this)
Evening
stranded on
the roundabout
a dazed pedestrian
hopes to cross
to the noodle bar
the october evening
heady with hops –
my small mica-blue car
passes by
the Bandido shootout
S&M club,
then the brewery
in traffic
I do a lot
of thinking
the lead kids
in Bay Street,
backs to a sunset
they never notice,
shouting at
the concrete mixers –
Turn off your engines !
the sky goes rococo
Residential Area !
No Standing Zone !
in a hurry ?
if you like,
you can skip
the last sections
of the poem
after work,
fearless in an office suit,
a cyclist
runs the red lights
on the way downtown
a cardboard
fruit box
collected by
a station wagon
hurled up
to land unflattened
the sky,
as if backlit,
turning glamorous
& final
waiting for dark
in Cleveland Street
a carjacker fidgets,
flicks & twirls
his cigarette.