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Kilgore Trout

December 17, 2018

contemporary mood:
viewing the western world
through a basketful of
stereopticonic hallucinations

all is unfolding
like a Kurt Vonnegut novel
or worse,
like a Kilgore Trout story

concentration
shattered into
distractions

a slurry of
the bland where
there is no impact
but that of
porridge
in a sock

searching for unreasonable reasons
as for a noodle in a haystack
behind a carnival of fakes
waiting for the fate train
to roll on down the lime

old enough to know better
dumb enough to give it a try

art never got anywhere
by hanging around
waiting for permission
or payment

 

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Imaginary works with real titles: for Frank

December 17, 2018

You do what I can only name – Frank O’Hara

Glass kites on a windless day

Cousins a la masquerade

Jimmy, my God, they’re burning down the barn again

A life among the inflatables

Clifton Hill reflections

Lane

Weeping woman unable to afford the latest iPhone upgrade

It’s not about balance, it’s about wobble

Ramadan is done

The last time I saw Constantinople

Inchoate chocolate butterflies

I know a gunslinger when I see one

Flaneur: Napoleon’s ghost in St Helena

Self-portrait with daemons

autobiographical fragment: job interviews

December 17, 2018

once I interviewed to be a writer of singing telegrams
everything had to be written to the same tune
a prayer: thank goodness

once I interviewed to do job training in retail
and was told I’d have to cut my hair
a prayer: thank goodness

once I interviewed to run a warehouse for a shampoo distributor
and was warned that the sales team would try to trick me
a prayer: thank goodness

once I was interviewed to work for an internet search results aggregator
they seemed to think I was overqualified
a prayer: thank goodness

once I was interviewed as a waiter in a waterfront cafe
apparently I was too old
a prayer: thank goodness

once I was interviewed to transcribe Parliamentary proceedings in Canberra
seemed like a good idea at the time
a prayer: thank goodness

once I was interviewed to transcribe at home in Hobart
lost serious points for attending in a leather jacket
a prayer: thank goodness

once I interviewed to transcribe court proceedings in Cambodia
just when life looked bleakest
a prayer: thank goodness

untitled

December 14, 2018

life is
what
happens
when you
don’t know
what time
it is

shadows

December 12, 2018

shadows turn into cats
and back into shadows

the air creaks under
atmospheric air pressure
variations too sensitive
for instruments to detect

a slow leak
gradually deflating into
soft night silence
a slink across a space

into a devilish cocoon
or at least a replica of one
using smoke and mirrors to
conjure halfhearted demons

left to itself it has
nothing to follow
its context stripped with time
robbing it of its smoke

and shattering its mirror
into fragments of light
that it tried so hard
to synthesise and impersonate

static

December 8, 2018

witterings in corners
lurches in the rafters
stains on the stairs
one of these days
I must do something about it

changing the direction of sleep
must signify an unexpressed desire
for change don’t you think?

clutter of sedentary accumulation
a visual reminder of unmoving
furnishing the hiding place
with detritis

might be better if
things were different
also it might be worse
one of these days
I must do something about it

vivid and vague

November 14, 2018

vivid
vivid
vivid
and vague

this battered shoebox
is full of a scattering of
reflective memories
of characterisations
and echoes of
exasperated mutterings
and unmutterings
and distillations of import
and outbursts of insight
that blur into
forgotten nights
through lapses of concentrated air
choked with smoke and chill

vivid
vivid
vivid
and so vague

we are unfired clay
after all