Saturday, May 15, 2021

Simic Poem

 On This Very Street in Belgrade

Your mother carried you
Out of the smoking ruins of a building
And set you down on this sidewalk
Like a doll bundled in burnt rags,
Where you now stood years later
Talking to a homeless dog,
Half-hidden behind a parked car,
His eyes brimming with hope
As he inched forward, ready for the worst.

-- Charles Simic (born May 9, 1938).

Sunday, May 02, 2021

Recent Poem




I stopped to stand

on a stone bridge

in the wetlands

I stopped to listen to

a frog’s monologue    donk  donk

but as I stopped he stopped –

all I heard was a handyman

thumping and sawing

to my left and to my right

space invaders in a backyard.

I stood and waited to

catch my breath and as I

waited frog started again    donk

closer seemingly      donk donk

under the bridge – and his throaty song

lightened my load    donk donk

and I smiled as I looked up

to the top of the tallest gum    donk



            ANDREW BURKE


Saturday, May 01, 2021


 "...poetry is survival, sir. it throws some of the stink bombs out of my room. if it comes as rhythm fine or physic, fine, any old way. I think of it more as a loaf of bread, a long fat hot loaf, sliced half down the middle, spread with pickles, onions, meats, garlic, chilies, old fingernails...add ice beer and a shot of scotch, ram it down under electric light, forget the mountains of faces and eyes and wrinkles and bombs and rent and graves, get it in, warm, smelling, filling, light a cigar, blow the whole room paint the whole room blue with smoke, play the radio, think of the bones of Chopin's left foot---that to me, is poetry, or zingplay, or the rays." Bukowski, 

SCREAMS FROM THE BALCONY - [To Allen DeLoach] February, 1967


 Can I suggest you back Australian poetry by buying The SATURDAY PAPER and reading three poems by Chilian poet JUAN GARRIDO-SALGADO ? That's this week's issue - but the paper has a literary creative page each week which is worth reading - as they are scarce!