Posted in Unexpected


Almost perfect teeth
large and white
slightly backward sloping – sharklike.
Metaphorical congruency
known to be out there
and not to be provoked.
until the chill shadow and efficient brutality.

Mine was a walk on part in a hospital soap opera
a cameo of unimportance
by the time frenzy came into my waters
savagery had calmed
to repeated use
of an adjective born as a verb.

She turned it into a lethal weapon
projectiles hurled with ferocity no apology could soften.
The Queen’s English – not
even if the most frequent words
were found in the Oxford.

I had never been comfortable there
unhappiness a constant companion
satisfaction a distant memory.
When the chance came to leave
it was a decision needing no deciding.

A decade passed without a glance
in the rear view mirror of second thoughts.
One grey Sunday circling the supermarket aisles
a dorsal fin
brief exchanges of platitudes
still at that place I enquire
inserting her favourite adjective
When the profanity is ejected she looks at me reproachfully.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.

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