She’s underhand throwing words with her mouth
The boy leans in past natural borders, to study the agenda in her eyes
He is built like a bent paperclip,
with bottlebrush forelocks, a barracuda jaw.

Between her bare legs, she gently squeezes
a cup of iced hibiscus tea.
She reaches down and lifting it to her lips,
I feel mine part, in thirsting sympathy…

Her upper thighs blush wet with condensation as
The boys eager fingers click on her knee,
like ice cubes in her sweating berry hibiscus,
floral melt cascades down her throat.

Fairy breath lands on my shoulders - my silk overcoat
It makes me dissolve with memory
of my beloved tea picker,
a cocoa skinned Sudanese girl
traveling the road to market in Al-Junaynah,
swaying in the truck bed under a warm sun,
dreaming of red karkadeh flowers
and a paper clip boy.

So I'm drinking the red wine
I had those cut-up peaches
Soaking, fermenting in for 3 days.
A nice summer evening buzz,
Just back from my evening walk
Within the gates of my over-55
Lunatic Asylum.
On my rear porch in Hemetucky,
I chaise lounge the hours,
Listening to the mourning dove
Nesting in the bottlebrush bush.
I know she's there, having
Fired thru my duck blind,
My latest weapon of choice,
My new-fangled Flex Hose,
It expands when turned on.
Which got me thinking that the
Flex Hose inventor guy must have
Whacked off a lot as a teenager.
An Alex Portnoy protege, perhaps,
If familiar with Roth's book.
Portnoy's Complaint:
Most of us read it;
Some of us lived it.
It is pointless to speculate.
12 ft. Flexible Water Hose with
Nozzle-flxh-25 (4-00268...Home Depot
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Hose-with.../204818892/The Home Depot
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"The Flexible hose automatically expands with water flow and contracts back to its original shape for storage. Lightweight and durable. The Flexible Hose will ..."
(That's right, a commercial right in the
Middle of the ******* poem.
This Poet refusing to die in the gutter,
Having finally figured out how to
MAKE POETRY PAY.)
But I digress.

you see i love christmas ya see

lots of lollies and cakes oh yeah

followed by a nice cold beer

christmas in australia

we have gum trees and bottlebrush

and koala bears and emus so cool

people suffering that is horrible

how about we save our christmas shopping money dude

to givs a poor person a gift

and there is pavlova and trifle yeah

and white christmas and mushroom cakes to share

ornaments on the christmas tree and lights on outside

yeah, people looking at our lights and they love it when they shine so bright

right into this great dark night

christmas in australia

people are in hospitall, feeling very very sick

and there isn’t that much to do, as to give them gifts of joy

maybe a card decorated with coloured flowers yeah

and a pink and yellow gingerbread house

which is made out of real gingerbread

so they have other things besides hospital food to eat

people are at war today

fighting for what they believe is right

they are away from their houses every day and night

i wish they were all at home celebrating christmas in australia

jingle bells jingle bells

jingle all the way, christmas in australia on a scorching summers day

jingle bells jingle bells

christmas time is beaut

oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty holden ute

we travel up to darwin as well as cairns, broome, katherine and townsville

we see the poor people say, give us a dollar bill

you say yes, but i could regret it when they spend it up on *****

a piece of you thinks they deserve to party, oh yeah they do

being christmas and all, and then we go and sing carols, my friend

in the old church hall

ayers rock and coober pedy, are great places to see

the christmas pageant in adelaide is put on so wonderfully

melbourne and sydney light up the towns voices with carols in the domain  and music bowl

and you see all the favourite stars lift up their voices and sing

and whether your a man who enjoys a can of beer by the tele

or a devoted family man looking at carols and lights

we all have fun, ruppity *** ***

at christmas in australia

You were a the fallen bird
Tweeting from beneath
The solid oak

You were the stray cat
That followed me home
On that rainy day in April

And you were the wave
That pulled me under
The icy, murky water

So I took you in
I was the one who fixed
your broken wing

I was the one
That stifled
Your incessant hunger

And I sank
Into you
Into your world

And now that I have fixed you
You fly away from me
Singing one final, clear song

Your stomach
no longer rumbles
for anything I can provide

And you have washed me up
Onto the shore
Leaving me out to dry

You do come occasionally
singing my name
carefully wrapping
your bottlebrush tail
around my leg
and teasingly lapping
at my toes


I am slightly saddened
Because I am suddenly aware
That you don’t need me anymore

Yes, I am glad you’re well
But don’t forget
Who made you so -DZ

Your feet had
turned stones. The return
of the gale will find-
blood marks.

Embalmed was your
spirit in my roses. The
heart of garden trembles.

A lone pain
flutters in exile. I will
not meet you at moon.
The greek tragedy repeats.

The spark was
caged. I was trying to
find shelter under bottlebrush
in howling rain.

I will not call a stop.