3 deaths on toast

Selected Poetry and Writing 2008

 

The Cage

her presence at the gate
caused the old lion
to prowl the limits of his cage

 

 

 

 

you will grow old here (for alex)

you need some inspiration or you will grow old here
you should take a lover and muse
someone from the back country
someone whose skin is fair and heart hardened
with bruised and blackened knees
a perfect body and broken psyche
whose childhood suffered incest and self mutilation
a teenage runaway doing tricks in adelaide
whose boyfriend left when he grew tired of beating her
whose sense of self overwhelms
who fills the void with sympathy, empathy and futility
who solicits gifts with duplicity
and she will direct you
to haul her mattress and mend her gate
to brush the cobwebs from her lovers walls
to dump her rubbish in alleyways
to lend a shoulder for her tears
to be her revenge fuck, her crazy handbag
her corpse in the dead pool
who takes you down another road
who freezes you in silence
and frozen leaves in silence
whose name you know as hissed by cobra
and howled by arctic winds
is represented by black hog and greed
and she will betray you as you betray her
and she will share your secrets as you spill hers
and she will be your inspiration
should you seek not to grow old here

 

 

Cold Friend

who cares for the feral cat
that cold friend
whose love is forever lost

 

 

 

 

 

Heart of Stone

there was a party at your parent’s house
i went along to see if i could catch a glimpse of you
i was dressed in brown shorts and had white socks on
it was a huge house with attic, basement and many rooms
the place was full of your friends, from up country, school, uni, work
uncles, aunts, thugs, girl’s chewing gum, all talking sport, cloths and other stuff
everyone seemed to know my name but i knew no one
i got a drink and saw you head upstairs, i thought to follow and perhaps say hello
i went to the attic but you were not there
i sat for a while at a table of others as they were talking
i couldn’t understand them, as if they spoke another language
they passed a smoke i drew on it and passed it on
but what i passed was just the paper, the drug sticking to my lips
i went to the basement but you were not there
someone asked if i was john graham i said i was
someone else them asked how they knew me, they said they didn’t know
i went outside but you were not there
a girl came out dressed in black wearing heavy makeup, was it you?
she threw herself on the ground hard
her sister crawled out of the bushes and said to the fallen girl “i just had a pink piss”
a man came out and asked the fallen girl if she was ok
she lifted her knickers and showed him her cunt
i walked off balloons bursting with each step
a man said “you shouldn’t burst those until midnight”
i asked him if he had seen you
he said “why would you want to see her?”
“she has a heart of stone”

 

 

 

 

My Sister

my sister spiralled out of control with
eating disorders
drug addiction
prostitution
depression
and it went on so long people got tired
and no matter what anybody said
nothing was ever good enough

my sister died from a combination of
drugs and organ failure
her junkie boyfriend
too out of it to wake
until hours later
and she was blue
how would that feel?
and how do you think i feel?

 

 

 

 

The Big Man

she told me she fucked the big man
as a panda eyed runaway
doing tricks in adelaide

he was on the top of his game
blowing coins at the pokies
where she lucked on him

his blood must run cold now
when their paths cross in elevator
corridor and meeting room

he has a young wife and child
he is at the top of his game
and still plays the pokies

the big man and others
took what they wanted
and left her hollow for me

 

 

 

Shadow of flesh

what will you do when your sister
tires of city living
and wants a house and kids out there somewhere
and what will you have to do
to keep this phantom umbilicus
from tearing apart your shadow of flesh

will you move out with them
to somewhere
and share their dreams and then
what will you have to do
to keep this mirror image
from tearing apart your shadow of flesh

what will you do now your sister
is married
with a house and family out there forever
and what will you do
to keep those childhood nightmares
from tearing apart your shadow of flesh

 

 

 

 

This Spot (No1)

this is the spot where i stopped
a parking bay down by the river
when things were falling apart
and i had nowhere to go
no one to see and there was nothing i could do

all i could see were birds hopping and flying
and leaves shivering in the wind
motion that seemed meaningless
i felt disassociated from my life
i sat shivering and lost in myself

i noticed a woman jogging
her shorts tight revealing her form
awakened by desire i turned to look
as she disappeared up the road
turning the key i pulled out back to the traffic

 

 

 

 

 

This Spot (No2)

to this spot
i returned with v
we had lunch
in quiet celebration
of my birthday
and talked easily
as the sun blinked
through heavy clouds
and rain drifted from
across the river
later we walked
the muddy trail
that wound the river
as wind stirred
the yellow wattle
and feathers of birds
i found the ruins
of a wasps nest
in a hollow
scattered egg casings
the only sign
of the swarm
that had once
nurtured
the young

 

 

 

 

 

This Spot (No3)

the walked and muddy path hugs the river
winding and dipping, breaking away
reminding me of you

the cormorant dries its wings as if crucified
it’s cold and distant eye vacant but for opportunity
reminding me of you

the yellow wattle so fragrant and beautiful
with pitted and wormy limbs oozing sap
reminding me of you

the rain clouds heavy slowly blacken
and misty rain turns hard and falls
reminding me of you

the wind howls and tears through tree tops
thrashing the branches in wild tantrum
reminding me of you

the swollen river breaking its banks and yellow
hiding its dangers in a cloak of mud
reminding me of you

 

 

 

 

Please

P
P
P
P
P
Please
don’t leave me
now

 

 

 

 

An Ugly Man

he was an ugly man
nose too long
lacking a chin
and teeth like translucent panels

he was a thin man
with weak and watery eyes
his glasses perched
on top his head of frizzy hair

he was gravely ill
an incurable disease
he liked to smoke
and thought himself a ladies’ man

 

 

 

 

Stoopid Poet

he was a stoopid poet from america
his prose overly wordy and complicated
to disguise the void
he filled with smug conversation

i helped her clean out his room
when she broke the house
perhaps he was working on a difficult couplet
as i bushed spider webs from his walls

he turned up much later
when the work was done
lying on the couch he took off his shoes
and filled the house with his stink

 

 

 

 

A Girl Child

i fell in love with a girl child
so fair and free to sin
beneath her skin a demon slept
a demon kept within
within
a demon slept within

oh girl child please be nice to me
and sweet as yellow wattle
oh keep your demon deep at bay
and well away from me
and stay
well away from me

girl child won’t you let me in
i wish to please you how
oh let me know whatever way
and how you like to play
with me
oh how you like to play

so girl child won’t you talk no more
talk no more to me
has your demon turned to see
you turn away from me
i see
you've turned away from me

my girl child cut me open wide
and stitched me all up wrong
her demon sat so satisfied
as i was flung aside
i cried
i was cast aside

i fell in love with a girl child
so fair and sweet to see
but beneath her skin a demon crept
a demon slept within
a demon
a demon kept within
a demon crept within
awake demon deep within

 

 

 

 

Little Miss X

i heard something
about your pa
crazy as a snake
but he still drives a car
right down the main street
around every block
and he doesn’t even take off
the steering lock

i heard something
about your ma
tried her best
but didn’t get far
on valium
and cheap cheap gin
she couldn’t even stop
that fucking cousin

little miss x staying up late
3 little grapes
on her dinner plate
lips wide open
as she masturbates
her finger on her trigger
and a lion at her gate

i heard something
about your sis
but i ain’t allowed
to mention it
she looks kinda like
she got hit with a fish
thrown by her husband
from his feeding dish

i heard something
all about you
you’re more mixed up
than a big pot of stew
cooked by a retard
with a slack jaw
and sprayed on the ceiling
and splattered on the floor

little miss x staying up late
3 little grapes
on her dinner plate
a new boyfriend
but he gotta wait
she got a finger on her trigger
and a lion at her gate

 

 

 

 

you know in another lifetime i was a coward soldier but I had a job crucifying women

Crucifying She

she displays no pain as i drive nails
she is passive her face set
showing no recognition of me
her blood flows
into the pine and spills around
to drip and pool on dirty earth
my duty complete i stand back
shadows dance across her pale beauty
it hurts her as cross finds foundation
and resignation replaces resistance
earlier i’d carried her cross briefly
when she tired and cried for assistance
but it is late now and i wish to go
black clouds sit close to the ground
and the greasy sun is sinking low
i offer her the last of my wine
but she is out of reach
i'd offer to take her place
but she is the cross
and i am her
hammer

 

 

 

 

Your Heart

your heart locked away in a ribcage
and the key to release is lost
i searched all night through carrion
in trenches so cold with frost

who locked your heart into this cage
of flesh and of blood and of bone
can i blame all your little boy soldiers
who are dead now or dying alone

oh please help me to find the small key
in trenches piled high with the dead
i search through the bones of your lovers
and on the fingers of the newly wed

heart beating hard against bare bone
you draw out the last of my love
beyond salvation imprisoned
love pumps and is pumped into mud

love drained and pumped into mud
love pumped and staining the mud
and mud is just mud and more mud
and mud is just mud and more mud

 

 

 

 

you ever felt like killing yourself how about your father your mother your son your daughter or just some random cunt in the street
i feel like killing myself all the time

3 Deaths On Toast

hard heavy and dangerous
a gun
the barrel lean
the handle
smooth in the hand
the trigger
like cock or cunt
fingered and fiddled
played and pressed
the retort explosive
and violent
no chance of repair
as it fills your mouth

coiled limp and gentle
rope
the dead snake
flaccid and powerless
but strung from a branch
or a beam
it breathes life
as it pulls and jerks the body
swinging tight
its grip enfolding
muscle and flesh
leaving you
spent

rolling and carefree
pills
like pebbles
poured into mouth
and stomach
spilling across
bed and floor
the ease of heaven
leaving you open
and beautiful
cold and available
a morticians
necrophilic
fantasy

so lets drink drink drink
to my dead sister, your brother, that cousin, father, mother, uncle, niece and stranger's son
to dogs, cats, horses, goldfish, canaries, flies, fleas and spiders, to the old and to the young
to rejection, failure, depression, hopelessness, futility, to the diseased and broken hearted
to elaine, susan, frank, and john, to marina, kristin, vivienne, simon, mark, luke and me and you
let’s drink lets drink lets drink let’s drink lets drink lets drink let’s drink lets drink lets drink…

 

 

 

 

i had a friend but she got colder and colder and more and more distant until one day i realised she was stranded on the moon

Stranded On The Moon

i can see her stranded on the moon
how she got there i cannot tell
a storm is building black against the milky way
and she is small and distant in my eyes

i watch her through binoculars
doing this and chewing gum
as she pulls an orange tarp across
a surface pocked with falling stars

i try to call her but on she goes
with those remote actions
a message sent and ignored
i wonder is she out of range

is she cold, her face is unreadable
as she disappears
in and out of the shadow
of an monstrous and ruined crater

i offer to go and help but my supervisor declines
my position to low to warrant such expense
"anyway she will freeze in the storm"
he mumbles turning away

and i watch her stranded on the moon
that barren place with stars so bright
her tent and her bike now frozen in ice
yet still she performs those futile tasks

so why she is stuck on him
fat nearly full his eyes yellow
she is so small and distant in my eyes
and her lips are turning blue

 

 

 

 

Crush

no more will i get to walk her
sharing hot summers evening breeze
betrayed i had recently crushed her
and ruthlessly she had crushed me

no more will i get to toast her
and no more will she drink to me
because i had utterly crushed her
as totally she had crushed me

no more will i get to kiss her
and no more will she ever kiss me
so why do you think i crushed her
and why is she is still crushing me

and no more will i get to fuck her
no way she ever will let me
she crushed when i entered her body
and responded by crushing me

oh i know had a crush on her
as she had a crush on me
so why did i crush her as gleefully
as she crushed and still crushes me

 

 

 

 

The Crucified Christ

you thought
i was above
such behaviour
that such actions
impossible for a man
of my calibre

but no
i am one
of the others
pinned beside
the crucified
christ

 

 

 

 

 

Stupid Adam

i see myself as a stupid adam
outside eden
eating an apple and wondering
why heaven
closed its gate

 

 

 

 

 

Broken face

he stares back
i do not know him
although i recognize his eyes
the same colour and intensity as mine
but his nose is broad, puffed and skinned
across the bridge a livid red gash weeps lymph
the upper lip grossly swollen protrudes prominently
between twin and bloody streams severely bruised
the sore blackened flesh lending comical
the appearance of hitler’s moustache
finding this amusing i attempt a laugh
but his face does not respond
blankly he stares back
from the mirror
my new face

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Mother

I write today from my convalescence to inform you of my recent fall.
I maintain my teeth and my nose looks to no more crooked than before.
In fact perhaps straighter as the bit I chose to haul across concrete at speed was opposite to the existing tilt.
So Mother I now sport an inch long gash to the bridge of my nose that will forever give the appearance of danger or of weakness.
That said I have been mending fast and sleeping well.
But Mother I worry because I feel no pain and looking at the destruction cannot felt anguish or remorse.
Dear Mother I concede my approach not the best method to launch oneself to the stars or to the moon.
In the air they danced from my grip and below the yawning pavement welcomed, but so hard and cruel like a critic or bored and indifferent, an audience waiting to greet the slightest stumble or weakness in silence and applaud such folly with a cold and grey shoulder.
And so dear Mother already I prepare myself for another attempt.
This time I shall utilize a different platform and apply greater speed and a surety of aim that must surely liberate me from this desolate kerb.
You always said dear Mother that some babies never learn.
But Mother you must know some babies never try.

Your loving son

John

 

 

 

 

 

My Fall

i
feel
different
since my fall
my old self lost
and the new one
blurred unfocused and empty
i hit my head hard and perhaps damaged neurons
like a child whipping and trashing roses or butterflies
raining random blow's down petal and wing
to spin and flutter to the ground and die
i feel different
ever since
that
fall

 

 

 

 

 

Bottle

my friend
is a bottle
of beer
wine
whiskey
gin
vodka
whatever
is on offer
and i drink
dear friend
to you

 

 

 

 

 

Artist

i
am
an artist
an outcaste
mad
crazy
ugly
sick
degenerate
retarded
perverse
stupid
dumb
obscene
poisonous
i stand alone
seeking validation
and you are right to reject me

 

 

 

 

 

Visions

what awakes me
from my cavern
my cave, this fortress
to walk the night in falling rain
and pass a concrete valley fixed
between one mountain and the next
calling me unarmed
to cross this dead wood
all strung with wire
neither hunger nor thirst
nor sleeplessness
although tired still down i go
on down and up
to turn in the door
and take my place
in a crowded row
between the happy
the mad the broken shadows
laughter and silence
i sit with others as
sparking light flashes
illuminating this spot
and a vision from some old bible or fable
floating and beautiful
rendering all others grey
and green and blue
dark eyes recognise me
“the usual”
for she knows this pilgrim
“yes please and thank you”
i mutter my eyes skipping
from her beauty like a stone
thrown across this valley
so as not to appear strange