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Thursday, April 17, 2008

Snap: Wednesday Workshop at Tom Collins House

daylight rushes in
pushes me out of bed

i listen to Van the Man
as i drive through traffic
lumpy at the intersections

to park on crushed leaves
by the old writer's cottage

what Furphy found barely a home
we maintain as monument
only an ocean in the backyard
and no chickens pecking
in the shade of melon hill

'what's wrong with this picture?
I'm living in a different time ...
Baby, don't you understand,
I left all that jive behind ...'


here i am telling all i know
just pay at the door
some poets worth their salt
retain a duty to be poor

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