the who's who's
the ties and suits
the black and white
the stripes, the sleuths
the egocentric
tall, concentric
parts of us parade
eccentric
through the cities
in the minds
we make ourselves,
for only ourselves
on streets we walk alone,
in need of truth.

On my way to post a letter
Out my car Windows
I saw a grammar
Make a dash across the road
In an effort to be punctual
To a function at the TAB.
I skidded my car to a full stop,
Lost control in her direction,
Not in time to avoid my space-bar
I dashed over to find
She was in a comma!

Hit with a forward slash
It was a capital offense
I could not escape
Yet I was bold,
Tensely outlined the events
They docked a dot point
off my pen licence
and after bringing me before the keyboard
Sentenced me to a short spell
In a prison pen
(as it was just a lower case).

Entering the ward,
I paged the shift nurse
After her line break
‘- Would she wake?’
As it turns out her back space
Will have question marks
But her chances are greater-than most
Her progress is fontastic
For her age bracket
But her colon was disturbed -

She may have trouble
                                       with
                                                    her
                                                               vowels.

you forget
you are a poet
and accidentally
make sense

A boyish grin in your branches
you climb into the sky
with fingertips on tree-bark
to its shoulders, through its eyes
on red-gum scribbles
wooden heights

Barefoot, scamper upward
earth in your lungs
breathe deeply, and feel
the roots in your chest
as web-woven shadows
teeter along

Oh build your castle there
and champion truth
with that sun-blonde hair
in the sky of sea, adrift in the light
on cotton-white tides

As fifty-two birds fly
like cards, dealt ever upward
on skyscape velveteen
in their paper-skins, like you
take flight, take flight
with your hearts and your diamonds,

red as the land

below