Saturday, 25 March 2017

Unspeakable (March)

[Found poem] Living with flat screen of ‘unspeakable terror’, unspeakable news from every cable, fed up being amused with the idea ‘Unspeakable is a single from Ace of Base’s 2002 album Da Capo. The single peaked at number 45 in Sweden and 97 in Germany’ I turn off flat screen and escape into March garden to gaze at unspeakable (Adjective: Not able to be expressed in words) native grasses, clumped into place in new rain, unspeakable tendrils of grevillea, unspeakable look of my cat, her retina looking up at me, unspeakable sky of further rain cloud, unspeakable cause of All.

Friday, 24 March 2017

City (March)

[Chorale] Laughing voice of Björk concatenates from a streetfront record store. Crestfallen voice of Thom Yorke ice-ages the beat-up beatbox. Majestic voice of Martha Reeves throws down the lowdown downtown. Iridescent voice of Frankie Valli wings from automatic wind-down windows. Metallic voice of Madonna mosquitoes in an earplug. Charmed voice of KC warms the sunless waiting room. Plaintive voice of Donald Fagen laments again on download, lost March. Droll voice of Taylor Swift trolleys along miles of supermarket aisles. Shouting voice of John Lennon attacks the languid Mason Jar café. Thin voice of Stevie Nicks quavers from a train door.

Colour (March)

[Abstract] Sun-curled leaves taken by wind force fallen light-brown into rain sediments lie where drifted around ragged pools dried yesterday, a March of too much heat, then white rainfall. Elongated white trunks and piebald branches, whether bark or shadow, breathe morning air, existences for all seasons, their topmost dull greens entertaining daybreak, itself complete white-yellow. Siennas of houses steeped in light block the scene but washes of blue insist on more water, whether sky or human, moving where birds of orange indigo circle with purpose. Train window for emphasis frames these elements, commuter-viewers decked behind glass in their autumn fashions.