Tuesday, 23 July 2019


Once more, a one hour and eleven minute
Epic with Optus. Getting there? Or bin it?
I cancelled Wireless Broadband. What a drag!
We send modem back when we receive a ‘bag’
From Optus. They cancel that account (‘cute!’-ed.)
And all fees connected with it. Hmmm. I disputed
We pay re-connection Cable fee for the old set-up. 
Optus man today (third in line) finally steps up
Says he can’t see a fee, but couldn’t tell me our bill.
Have to leave this for another day. What the hell!
Once more, passed on from person to person,
All I think are in India. I’m glad for good reason
They have employment, but it is all so (I sense)
A labyrinthine galactic wiry experience.

Monday, 22 July 2019


 It’s a refrain they sing in Naples
Because Our Thing has burnt down the supermarket.
Debts are piling up, no holiday this year,
This year meanders out of luck on the lotto, the horses.
Jobs on construction come at a pinch
And the money in your pocket won’t stop the traffic.
Every conversation is one you’ve had before, sunshine, you know them.
While the refrain itself goes thus (just a trio of strings):
It’s about coffee,
A small cup of coffee and a cigarette.
For a few lira that’s your consolation.
You can sit at the café window and watch the disrespect,
The hydra of Naples swelling in humidity
And only you and the barman get the joke.

Sunday, 21 July 2019


Listening to the young bossa nova Cubans 1964:
What is your love and what is your drink?
Voices of the dead
Crooning like New York heroes, their spark, their fame-portion,
Nightclub after nightclub.
Tight rhythm, twisted pitch, perfect bend,
Their respect for the lines, getting it right, every time.
Voices the past meant nothing to,
What would there be to change their minds?
He, staring at the bottom of his rum glass,
Little hands and little handsome feet,
A chevron walk on starless lane.
Don’t let it eat your liver, little Orpheus.
Only one of the guys on this CD is still alive (believe it).