Every once in a while
Me and my mum and her friend
Get together for lunch and Yahtzee
And we also have goosey
My mums puppet goose
To give us all good luck
We play two games
And a dessert between each game
You see there is nothing wrong
With the lunch and Yahtzee
Because we get to have a bit of fun
At birthdays we go to the Jamison
Southern cross club for lunch
And then back home for dessert and Yahtzee
We also used to go to Canberra carols
Near stage 88 now we go to mums house
To watch carols from Shepparton on YouTube and my mums friend buys fish
And chips and we eat drink and watch and sing along to the carols
And on Christmas Day we play Yahtzee
Have a Christmas roast and dessert and we each tell a story we either wrote or learnt and last year I sang the grizzly Adams tune ‘maybe’ and it was fun
Lunch and Yahtzee is fun

illuminated streetlights guide us down the trail of truth.
memories trapped within the corners are now ablaze.
secrets hidden in the mist are swallowed.
russia. mexico. puerto rico.
99 cards for this game of yahtzee.
beginner's luck excuses the match.
blank pages, missing drafts reflect the travels all lost.
semi or strong?
pickle. tomato. lime.
stir it up and tip it over.
orange blossoms and juniper leaves
line the edges of the trail
igniting passion and intensity.
faces lost, and experiences crossed.
it's hank moody's turn to rise.

I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region.
I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion;
I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman.

I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist;
I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist.

I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina,
A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner.

I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later,"
I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader.
I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker,
A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker.

I am a salesman and clerk,
A criminal and a serf,
The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth.

I am a drinker and smoker,
A consumer and broker,
A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper.

I am a Citizen.

Religious and secular,
Macrocosmic, molecular,
Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular,
A "packie," a ****, a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee;

A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus,
History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us.
The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted;
It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted.

Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic,
An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip,
A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician,
A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist,
An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic;
I am a citizen,
And as one,

I'm elastic.

Today I wrote to you. I haven’t seen you in seven months and sixteen days, as of 10 AM this morning. Only two weeks left. It seems unreal… It also seems that to write to you is all I have. So this morning I sat at my desk, and I opened my mind to all the things I could have said to you, but never thought to.

Do you remember the first day we met? It was in the café on Franklin Blvd. You were wearing your grey Fedora, a Hurley shirt, and those burnt sienna penny loafers we’d make so much fun of later.

I was at the table by the window, and I couldn’t help but notice you. Three of your fingernails were painted yellow, and you wore a bunch of beaded hemp bracelets on your right wrist. They looked Bohemian to me, but one day you explained the difference in that and Jamaican. You were singing a little tune while waiting in line. Later, you’d call it your “little ditty,” and you’d sing it all the time. You always said things like that, & I always fell in love with you more.

You ordered a vanilla cappuccino and a plain English muffin. I looked down at the same half-eaten muffin and cold cappuccino in front of me. I wondered why it seemed that I knew you already.

You sat down at a table a few feet away from me. You took off your penny loafers and took a handheld game of Yahtzee out of your pocket to accompany your breakfast. I was perplexed that you hadn’t noticed me staring yet.

Ah, there it was. You looked over at me. You must have sensed me by then. Immediately you smiled that half-smile you would always do, a mix between a condescending smirk and a boyishly cute pride. It was altogether endearing. You raised your eyebrows and nodded, as if we’d known each other for years. I admired your charmingly playful introduction. I would soon call you sweet pea.

………………

It was eight months ago today that you told me you were leaving. Your large brown eyes were full of promise and sorrow. I dropped my half-full coffee mug, and it spilled all over the carpet. The cat ran to lick it up, and was disappointed when the taste was utterly bitter. In other circumstances, I would have laughed and pointed it out to you, and we’d admire the cat’s zealous naïveté.

However, the cat had but a split-second of my stolid attention before my eyes met yours again, and I felt paralyzed. I asked what you meant, and you repeated yourself.

You told me of Jacob and all he meant to you. I cried when you told me how God and all his goodness took a sixteen year-old boy and his giant heart away from this world, away from his brother. You also told me how you’d avoided him for over three years before his death.

I was in disbelief that you’d never told me of him. You just looked down and said you’d had no room in your selfish green world for his coal-black sickness. Then you told me of his letter before he passed, asking one thing from each person he cared about. To help the world in a way they never would have done before, to somehow leave a legacy in his name.

My stomach felt sick. My baked-apple oatmeal felt at the tip of my tongue. How could this be happening to you? I instantaneously let go of any would-be grudge against you for being kept from the cruelly and sickeningly beautiful reality attacking your heart.

For I could see in your eyes that you were tearing your soul to shreds. You explained how in your peaceful aura had been a mask, a denial of the sickness slowly claiming your brother, waiting it out. For he couldn’t die. He would simply be better one day, and you were waiting for that. But, he did die. And you already knew what your mission would be.

You were leaving in two weeks from that day. You were flying to Africa with the church your brother had been devoted to since the diagnosis four years before this day. You’d spend eight months with the church members in Africa, working with children in a third-world country. Anything you donated would be in the name of Jacob Meyers.

You had talked about this with your family, and they agreed it would please Jacob and the legacy he had asked for. I at once stated that I was going too. My belittled heart broke cleanly in two when you told me how you had to go alone, that Jacob wanted a noble mission.

He had explained that he wanted someone to do selfless work in his name. How in order to give truly, you must give all. I knew you felt that you had to give the largest part, for you’d been the most selfish to avoid him. I let you keep your dignity and, broken, I accepted what you were doing. If anything, I loved you so much more for it.

Sorrowfully and dutifully we packed bags to attend his funeral. I never told you this, but I read four novels on sibling death. I wanted to take your hand in mine and feel what you were going to feel when you saw him laying there.

………………

In two weeks I will see you again. I will travel to the airport and pick you up and time will move once again. I often wonder how spectacularly, or marginally, you will have changed.

I have your loafers, your fedora, and your faded Hurley shirt ready to wear to the café where we met when you come back.




To my faux Jamaican sweet pea,
I miss you.

Who the Hell wants to
Go off to Heaven?
Think about it please:
If you had to spend
All eternity
With “goody two shoes”,
And “zipped up virgins”,
And “pious *******”,
Always putting on
Thick sweaters of wool
Cause there ain’t no heat,
Playing “Yahtzee” and
“Old Maid” and “Go Fish”
And “Bingo” and “Red
Rover Red Rover”
Send the next bore on
Over! You’d pray and,
Oh my dear, you‘d wish
To come down to Hell
Where the party’s at!
By the time Heaven
Starts serving soda
Water and broccoli
Oh my dear you’ll crave:
***** Linguini
A full Trough of Sloth
A Southern Wrath Wrap
Greed’s mead, Peppered Pride
Glutton’s Mutton and
Sweet Envy’s Smoothie.
Can you live with just
Holding their cold hand?
Sitting on some cloud,
Gazing and never
Feeling or touching?
Never burning, nor
Experimenting?
This is blunt, but think,
This is where all the
Interesting folks
Go! Laughter? Its here!
Debauchery? Here!
Creativity!
Ingenuity!
We are what made life,
LIFE! Think about it!
Has obedience,
Has docility,
Has simplicity,
Has submission changed
This world? This universe?
A wise man, once said
“If heaven is where,
“Nice” folks like you go,
Then its surely hell
That I’d rather know”
Here is the freedom!
Here are the cool kids!
Why starve in the light,
When in the dark there’s
Every delight and
Every single thing
Enjoyed throughout life?

the roles people play
cosmetic tunic, armor and robe
in cerebral dungeons delay
and physical dragons slay

pursuing love's elusive Yahtzee
flowers, candy and ethereal prince
show the smile, hide the ****
intensely adore, joie de vivre

blessed are those whose heart and eyes
see us for who we are
the stage, the act be circumsized
undressed relationships the prize

it's hot in a restaurant with the strangers you've since been stranded with

(look! You Finally Did It!)

and everybody knows your name but the symbolism of individualized letters with glottal stops and teeth-******* pauses and dyslexic lingering lisps is lost on them, they have their own letters to think about, don't you know?

(hundreds of pillows fly out my ears in increasing sizes, so i must be dreaming - Right?)

Yahtzee! Soccer! Give it the old college try!

(abstract oils crash and burn in a watchtower atop of your New Life)

It's Something to do with your Mouth, It's Something to do with your Hands, but we couldn't tell you why $2.50 wasted matters more than four months and the casual flinging of my (god forbid)

i n n o c e n c e

(you're happy and i'm unconscious, so in theory we're on the same wavelength - Right?)

can you assure me that everyone has two decades of nauseating mediocrity
or no - is it just me?
we Need coffee! we Need love! dread has to be evenly distributed - don't leave your years of it at my door!

(i don't want anybody's advice unless it's on how to fashion a fully-functioning noose)

tiny lips and long socks - i can't stop being in love with the whole two-eye/two-ear/nose/mouth ordeal but i'm utterly left-handed in my lust and i swear to god both hands are empty - but that's something else entirely

(back to where we started from, in bleeding headlights swimming on deserted streets)

'just wanted to throw an XO your way' say the eyes of every crossword connection i bend over backwards to trying to cater it to my thoughts of you

(For Sale: a storage unit of journals filled with sketches of you - it's pink and mushy and curled inside my head, if you're into that)

and it's only when we're in a bed together at 3:26 AM that belongs to neither you or me that i can consciously eliminate emptied emotions and neatly file them onto typeface notes hidden in bouquets decorating the dismal-ities of my freshly-planted tombstone

(fuse our bodies together and let's make this sarcophagus a necrophilia-polis)

I burn
beautifully in the
fires of
vanity

I got lost
in my reflection
on the
frozen foods
doors

I was
displayed
with all the other
products
on ice:

three fifty-nine
for four
egg rolls

six twenty-nine
for frozen
bread dough

six ninety-nine
for wild
blueberries

and
superimposed
among them
my long mug
doing its best
to fit in

according to my
forehead
I am
three ninety-nine

but if you
ask my solar
plexus
I'm clearly marked
five fifty-nine

however,
my **** is apparently
on clearance
reduced by thirty
percent and
selling for
one dollar and
nineteen cents

and that old lady
at the end of the aisle
is eyeing
my biscuits
and rattling
her coin purse
like she's about to
roll
a yahtzee

my eyes dart
back to
my reflection
on the doors

what did I
come here
for again?

I still have more to give
                   cried
the rotting leftovers
in the back of the fridge
Desperate to be
used
ripped
snagged

just take me off
this crusting tomb
I
   want
              to
                     feel
what it is like to be
           reheated
just zap me
   :45
ill be tender
    ill be good
                               enough to eat
alive
and the last streams of red can trickle onto
your paper towel
                                                 all the mess
                                                 ****** away
                                              by the quicker picker upper
slip slip slipping
on this plastic plate
   because you dropped all your fine china
                      you broke all the glass
                             you cracked all your chances
for divine dinning
I can watch your eyes roll around
from the inside of my lightening storm
a game of Yahtzee- snake eyes 4 times in a row
scanning everything
                                                      ­forgetting everything
are you feeling lucky?
:10
almost almost
       almost

drip drip dripping
           is the drool from your mouth
you forgot how good I can be
use the knife and cut away the bad parts and ill be
the prettiest picture
               you've ever seen
i'll taste just like I look------ a piece of rotting meat with the corners cut off and the juices all dried with a warm reminder of hot all dumped onto a plastic plate.

delicious

People say love is a game

Monopoly is more fun than this ****

and at least that comes with directions though no one bothers to read them

With love the rules change with every new player

The basics are

You should smile

Laugh at all their jokes especially if none of them are funny

do not be too “available”

do not awkward

do not be weird, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.

I’m not a hopeless romantic

I’m just hopeless

People tell me to get a clue

But I’d much rather be playing clue

Yeah Miss Scarlett killed Mr. Body with the lead pipe in the hall

But hey at least she can’t break your heart

See I don’t mind losing a silly little board game

but baby I couldn’t stand to lose you

When you’re gone my hearts

when you’re with me it hurts even more

This hurt shooting through my veins and down my spine

like the rush of a thousand bingos and Yahtzee’s combined  

reminding me I’m alive

That I can feel and think and… love

I don’t want to lose that

I can’t lose that

But wins and losses are a part of life

And I’m not talking about the one I can cheat at

So I’ll just cross my fingers and roll the dice.

all was calm this morning
and now it's not
it changed faster than tachyons
how can it be?

how did that blue sky
breathing life into the little white flowers
the ones that tell me it is spring
the ones that seemed to smile as I passed them
how did that turn into this?

this torrential down pour
these ferocious winds
the sideways rain hits me like bullets
or at least paint *****
turning exposed skin red on the run
the wet trash is hurling down the street
faster than the rushing creek
the creek that serves as my driveway

how did the sounds of the birds chirping
turn into thunder crashing louder than the ocean
thunder shaking my house
we're in the Yahtzee cup of the God's dinner party
shaking around
no clue how we will fall

I hate the weather.

drenched in the stench of competition,
unattractive ultimate of winning
a loss equates to confidence thinning
stopping not, for sake of the mission
for someone of high cognition
victory consumes you, leaves you grinning
unnoticed until now, same from the beginning
determined to conquer this fission
strict, stoic, aggressive ****
maintain control, grip tighter the reigns
anything from professional to Yahtzee
uneven match, still your moral gains
stubborn, step into a familial kamikaze
severing connection, frees me from chains

Wait and see people,
when the power goes out,
it's going to be a freak show.
Ya know, it goes out for only an hour
& people get totally squirrelly,
they get really agitated,
start squawking.
Imagine a week to ten days.
It ain't going to be playin' yahtzee,
Personally, I'll be going on the offensive,
if you don't take the initiative,
the hooligans are going to come
and take all your **** by force.
I saw three headless bodies once,
hands tied behind their backs,
it was a ****** affair.
So listen up folks,
this picture of peace & calm
is only a facade,
it hides the animal
inside of all of us.
I've seen them.
Most people
are ravenous wolves
in disguise.

The task was quite simple - speak into the mic,
Or post it to Twitter if that's what you like,
But pause for a moment your intense game of Yahtzee
And tell the whole nation that no sick neo-****,
White supremacists, kkker or alt-right fanatic –
(With or without robes that they found in the attic)
Is allowed to spread terror or drive cars through a crowd.
Vile speech, vile actions just won't be allowed.
As people sat waiting throughout our great nation-
Instead of a strong and robust condemnation
There came but a tweet both insipid and sad
Implying that both sides were equally bad,
And when no one came forth to defend his position
Not Repubs or Dems, hardly one politician
Trump finally said okay what I meant
Was white supremacists are evil one hundred percent.
But the bigots were grinning as Trump's sound bite got tossed -
Cause he had made it quite clear that his fingers were crossed.

i remember playing red rover
and ghosts in the graveyard

monopoly and chinese checkers
and yahtzee and spades

i remember playing wife
and mother

and employee of the month

i walk dangerously close
to the edges of my life
sometimes

but i never play there

even when i lived in barrels i was stung by pre-Euclidean geometries

aping right angles, askew of a laminar flow of Time.
even when i stutter like butter on a lightning bolt
my collisions resolve dormancy
wherever i evict a conspicuous
ascetic tenet.

i twist The End where The Beginning buds;
and watch for spontaneous eruptions-

for Origins, mapped to a powder keg
with a damp fuse.

[ it’s steam engines now… ]

AND
the moon’s belly
is a bright eclipse
clamor-locked in the beastly
barrage of our tuneless
arias…
coping with despotic realities
with aplomb; birthing sunshine
from a myth mirror
emblazoned where harm refracts
exact moments-
tumbling magnetic…

as your eyes
Yahtzee the Forbidden
like a rogue.

with
blunt force
Rama.
as Fore-
​​​​​​​told.

II

infinity pools are finite if you swim like a rock.
or fall asleep when a lullabies’ on fire.


just so you Know.

dark
it is light in another place.
Snowflakes melt on my head.
In another spot the sunbeams
bob like a sled.
Far as a distant star

Where there is
weeping
people are smiling rainbows
and dancing on unicorns
in my neighbor's yard.
My grass is honey-mustard,
burnt as custard.
Only high fences
between us
and locked screens.
Still, I see their
full lawn of forest green.

Where there are
starving men and woman
people are filling their faces
with caviar -
two-hundred dollars a jar
traveling to Monaco
in their polished, furnished yachts  
while I'm throwing dice
playing Yahtzee.
This world we live in
is crazy.

I like going out to have a good time
But I would like to actually have
A good time doing wholesome
Family stuff
I don’t want to and I quote
Be bored and lonely
Because the people who say that
Are phedophiles
And if they don’t have a family
Of their own they will groom
Kids online
Which I find are bad
A lot of people get mixed
Up doing bad things when they are
Young but I am starting to find
That a good wholesome family
Can be the cure of that
I hate the atmosphere of the
Psych ward
I hate gaol even more
And I hated my life as a child
Because a lot of times I nearly
Got myself kidnapped
Like I was locked in a room
Just for being a nice wholesome
Family kid
I did something wrong
And I paid my price
But I am not that same person anymore
I am too old to start a family
But I am too smart to
Groom kids online
I don’t talk to people
In the vlogs I watch them like tv
I used to party in nightclubs
Cause I loved the feel
But I was drifting away from family
And that wasn’t really any good
I want to be happy
I want to love my life
I don’t want to work at night
I am better working in the day
I used to meet up with bad people
When I did things at night
And in the psych ward
The doctors said
If I come here I have to cope
With the traumas of being in a place like that
I chose to follow Buddhism
Because I choose to believe
In coming back
Nobody can tell me to believe in other things
If it takes me away from coming back
I don’t want to do stupid things
Despite my love for partying
But that can lead me down
The garden path
Mate it really can
But I choose family events
Not because I like to perv or anything
I just find them entertaining
I watch the voice with my mum
And I play Yahtzee with mum and her friend
I have a love of teddy bears
Yes I am very much a nut
I live my life to fullest
I love Christmas carols
I go to as many as I want
Not to perv on the young
Just to sing the carols
It is a cool night out
This coronavirus has stopped
All the fun people can do
But I can still watch the sport on kayo
Footy baseball cricket etc
I am cool
Find a vaccine to bring my fun back to me and stop me from being as I quote bored and lonely

I talk too much
About playing football
And doing art like a **** stirring old man
And I talk about partying in the street
And how I can have fun
Doing what I want to do
I talk about baseball and cricket
And who will really win
I talk about my favourite bands
And what I think they should play
Play rock and roll
Blues and a tad of jazz
And kids music Christmas carols
Songs about the Easter bunny
And anthems about 4th Of July
As well as scary music of Halloween
I just love to talk mate
And if you keep on talking Briany
It will be a fun day for all
I talk about fun days
About superheroes nightclubs children playing oh yeah I feel good
I also talk about rugby league
Rugby union Aussie rules and basketball
And I talk about my favourite team
Canberra Penrith parramatta and Newcastle and the New South Wales blues, they won ‘yay’
And I go for brumbies wallabies even 1 from New Zealand and Carlton Sydney port Adelaide and Fremantle and Brisbane  and the GWS giants from aerial ping pong
But I like it a lot
I like to talk and
If you keep on talking briany
It will be a fun day for all
I talk about hot pants cold potato chips
Going you are a cool dude don’t deny it
I talk about KFC Kingsley’s Lido cherry bean they have really good food
I talk about house parties club parties park parties where the music is pretty rad
I like 50s 60s 70s and 80s
And 90s as well
I hate rap hip hop ****** love songs wild hogs no dogs
But I am starting to get used to them
I talk while we play Yahtzee and being artzie and watching a tv show
I talk to mum I talk to my other mum I talk to my brother cousins aunties and uncles
And to Buddha who knows where the dead are when they move to next lives
I talk all the time
But if you keep on talking briany
It will be a fun day for all
I talk to Christians about why they choose heaven and Muslims on why they want to **** and catholics why they go after the young and I like Jews and Buddhists
Yes I love to talk
I say yo it’s Brian and I am  here to say
Talking is the fun thing I do all day
Even politicians get a mention
Like the left wing likes the poor
And the right wing don’t give a toss
Put right wing on detention
And boy love to talk about myself
Yes I get a mention
And if you keep on talking briany
Everyone has fun with you

The allans and the karlsons
Where very very close
The adults used to gather round
Playing Yahtzee while the kids played
In the rooms
I wasn’t into the games they played
So I just sat in their lounge room
Watching tv
There wasn’t much on till
Really late at night when they put the winners on
I wanted to watch it to see how each team played
But it only lasted for an hour mate
But still it was fun
The kids wanted me to play ****** in the dark but I don’t like that game
You know I hated darkness
I prefer the light
But I used to joke around with my dad
And I used to tease mr Karlson because he went for st kilda
Even though he was big on Swedish
Table tennis yeah cool man yeah mate yeah
We went to Melbourne
To watch the cricket and walk around Carltons home ground back then
I made a few jokes to make these families laugh
I remember they hung around the tv
On the night of the 1983 election
When Hawke beat fraser
That was the best day in the world
When labor took over the leadership
I know I was a tv fernatic
But I joked around with the kids
Just didn’t muck around running around outside the hotel room
Didn’t wanna get in trouble
I joked around making the kids laugh yes it was fun
But now we don’t see the karlsons
They moved to Adelaide
And our family acted as if they never wanted any of that even if they just wanted to move on

We had a lovely cat
And his name was lucky
Beautiful little ***** cat
Smarter than the average rat
You see when he wants food
He will scratch my dad
Till his legs were blood
Didn’t we have a lovely goose
And her name his Lucy
Every time we play Yahtzee
Lucy’s there it give us good luck
And when we do well
We pat his head
What a silly goose
Didn’t we have a lovely Ted
His name was white teddy
He is as cuddly as can be
When you sleep he gives us a good feeling
We had a beautiful cat
His name was snoopy
Snoopy poopy sngeloopy
Looking after his property and his rubber bands
He used to eat twisties
Didn’t we have a lovely cat
And her name was fluffy
Cute little ***** car
Smarter than any rat
You see she used to like mummy
And also loved potato chips
You see she was a lovely cat
Cute dear fluffy