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Pam Brown

A m o c k e r y

like a confession

*

as usual it begins
as description

sheet lightning
streaks
across the corner
missenden & king

wide open doors
leach humidity

'FREE BYO'
the sign
on the plate glass

hovering fruitflies
sup the juices
hoisin splash
spots your blouse

full to belching
in Dumpling Hut
beery hotfaced

& beaming —

you philosophise
the wornout 'how to live'
theme

redundant wheezing
(you're 'positing')

no stopping it

*

a looming solution -
'jump off the bridge'

(unsaid)

*

why is that not funny?

*

assembling
your disapproval heap

we argue over
nothing much

but feel it

*

another go
another irritant —

nativists
voguing around scribbly barks
honouring an old as new
'Australianness'

*

now you're really starting to get on my nerves

*

another beer?

*

there are times
when everything's been said

(note
propensity for sulking)

put a lid on it?

*

I just noticed
you're wearing your
save the mangroves badge

(cheer up strategy)

*

workaday life
can be
pretty dull
pretty workaday

humdrum

oh fuck!
they should just
PRINT MORE MONEY!

*

&technically

does 'Australianness'
really need
double ns?

*

any love?

moving against one another
rubbing up
checking
over the shoulder

any love
any where
any way

huh

it isn't love
it isn't art
it's shit
pretty much

anyone?

*

(
personally of course I regret everything

not a word not a deed not a thought
not a need not a grief not a joy
not a girl not a boy not a doubt
not a trust not a scorn not a lust
not a hope not a fear not a smile
not a tear not a name not a face
no time no place that I do not regret
exceedingly

an ordure from beginning to end
)

*

then it seems
that
the gesture
determines
the document
every time

(it's a worry)

if,
as the internet poet says,
the first thing
a poem
communicates
is communicability

then
what?

*

some poetry
is
very good
at futility

*

it is mostly futile
but
it's also
'something to do'

echo echo echo

*

was an era doomed
in a moment?

when punk & disco
refused
any dialectical synthesis

oh that era

equals 'Mariah Carey'?

*

storm over
going home

bye bye dumpling

*

zip past
the emergency assembly point
so far so good
living here over half a decade
& no emergencies

b-double
stuck in the bus lane
king street
chock full

mr whippy's
nightmarish greensleeves
whirls
on the wind —

driven nuts
for forty years
by that carnival sound loop

any wonder
everyone seems
a bit jittery

*

it's here
climate change it is here

hotter inside
than outside

*

remember
the joneses?

now
neighbours resent neighbours'
better carbon outputs —
aircons cars pvc pool toys
plane trip emissions

*

the seasons
might need a change of name

how then
to say
'the sexiest summer was'
'the sexiest summer
of my life'

fervid tongues wet bellies

lovers

the sexiest summers of our lives

*

just before hiv

*

these days

the coffee machines
of some burbia or urbania
keep couples coupled

if that's
what's happened?

*

in stanmore
just off crystal street

olympia yellow —
Helen's kitchen ceiling
dreamy skylight
crossed by
big aluminium abdomens,
incoming planes

she says
for the government
it's another bad week

&
it's only tuesday

*

we're talking
about the past
having no influence

like some disastrous
Great Leap Forward

political convention
means nothing now

there's a saying in russia —
the past
is unpredictable

*

historians
cobweb your wounds

*

I know it's not
the end of capitalism
though
I might have said
it was ...

I surely did

or
hoped it was

*

I broke
the miniature ninukshuk

extra bad luck

*

&
seventy percent of the coral
is dead

*

to the reminiscery
tae visit
the wee spurrit
o'yae scots grandmither

bit na relief 'ere

och
woe betide
th' ebbing tide

aye

*

a real place called
river nith

in the northern & eastern parts
of the upper west district

*

aren't the good times a-comin'
soon

*

up the country
newly electrified sections
of the fence
keep things
in order
keep things
in the paspalum

a dingo
howling at dusk

if we're lucky

*

two streets
from
a wetland

i.e.
a couple of recycled
storm water ponds

introduced species
enjoying a respite
from rubbish dumps

*

ah
wondrous
contaminated
planet

*

it's all groundwork from here on

*

the modem's
in the wardrobe

the memory is full

what is to be done?

*

born dual
(gemini)

I can operate
in the margins
but, like Mel Chin,
(conceptual artist)
be ever wary
of being placed there
by anything in the centre
that maintains power
by colonizing
its perimeter

pause

that's
unlikely to happen,
whose poetry's
ever
that popular?

(though others
may wish
to 'take note')

*

&
a hundred
schools of thought
contend

*

you're making
a mockery

*

we HAVE food,
not like
we're starving here

*

too many
horrendous 'incidents'
in the
world-at-large

*

such regret

*

a lot of the time

*

& now or
near to now
in the last month
another friend
leaves
too early

at 40

in querétaro

Luis Alberto Arellano
poet born into
the Age of Discrepancies

so wry —
your cryptic wit
& pasquinade

in québec

& us
(oh) so wise
— kind of —
in our poor
second
& third languages

nothing in english
in that little town,
soupe à l'oignon
ice wine
& french everything

farewell
dear Luis

*

we're
going on,
me & the living

friends

outside
a coburg cakeshop

seduced by pigeons

she loves pigeons
'like a Jungian
would'

*

new year's day
begins a second later
a leap second
for atomic time

I walked round there
on the first of january

round the corner
from
south dowling street
methadone centre

a bedraggled jacaranda
late to flower,
still purpling
the concrete
& crumpled can glitter

no water view
&
almost as dead
as sausalito

I walked round there
last april

Etel Adnan
'divides her time'
between
sausalito & paris

paris
a no brainer
(that sounds 'american')

*

It is always 4 PM,
the hour I kissed a poster
(etel adnan)

*

now in the new year
2018 fresh time
have I used my extra second

*

momentarily
let's turn to
something futury

*

maybe not
let's not
*

in this hemisphere

*

on tv news
emergency workers
say they are tired
of pulling people
from car wrecks
with mobile phones
embedded in their bodies

*

a lunatic drives
a speeding car
straight into
lunchtime crowds
in central Melbourne

across the river
the international
tennis competition
continues
unawares

*

the world-at-large

*

I think I'll just sit here
& read

*

it's probably ok to ask
a perec question

'approaches to what?'

*

approaches
to

lower case world
far from
the middling case
where
the semi colons
are kept (;)

*

having a coke with you
goes round & round
the internet
until
the very end

mindful poetry
colouring book's
orange green
red white
stripes
of universal
seven elevens

*

folkstar
acoustic tales
from hal an tow
jolly rumbalo

mr minit
repairs hemp sandles
quick turnaround

*

why don't we do it
all again?

why don't we just?

*

the world's physical stuff
remains physical

my poem
not transformative

I guess I could say
'that's materiality for you'

it should be
as ephemeral
as instagram
as a whisper
as a wink

*

recurring heatwaves

(it's here)

placing pots
under chairs & table shade

french tarragon hydrangea

I tend hydrangea
reluctantly

intimation -
the protestant gardens
of childhood

unlike hypoestes phyllostachya
a k a
madagascan polka dot plant
that I'll shelter willingly

the sun so fierce
& no breeze

garden's not too messy
today
but it can be

*

two bees working
on unidentified groundcover

a cricket in the mint pot

lone blue banded bee
selects pink begonia,
how modest

sweeping away dead leaves
purple & red petals
avoid all ants

*

my ears
are as long
as Buddha's

*

glammed up for nothing

false positive

*

talking to myself again
lying on
a little mustard green
ottoman
under
the window
that gives a view
of a window
of the house next door

the world's physical stuff
just sticks there

nothing's moving

*

tomorrow I should still be here
then on wednesday
to chinatown
to buy goodwill symbols
& small gifts
for
the year of the rooster

*

almost february again
(I'm not ready)




Pam Brown is an occasional editor & reviewer & an author of various books, chapbooks, pamphlets & e-books. Her most recent book of poetry is Missing up (Vagabond Press 2015). Stale Objects dePress published a folio of her collage & other graphics, Westernity, in 2016. She lives in Sydney, Australia.
 
 
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