Posted in Antarctica


Antarctica enshrined by treaty
signed in 1959 by 12 nations
the 12 Apostles
well-placed for the afterlife.
By Article 9
resources must be protected and conserved.

In the mid-1980s
the ninth article was like sometimes faith
or road speed limit
observed when convenient
or display required.

Rubbish terminally useless
bodies with nothing to sell or exchange
pyramided on frozen ocean
vehicles, refrigerators, transformers.
The close sun flexes new found muscles
the cold is stared down
ice returns to water
the debris falling from sight – and mind.

Bill was larger than life
figuratively and literally
always good for a drink and story
homeward from the bar
he waved an arm at the horizon
“ it wouldn’t worry me
if this whole place was wall-to-wall oil rigs.”

A stern reprimand
and lecture on environmentalism.
“ Well,” a nose nodding toward piles
of soon-to-be submarine rubbish
“ could it be any worse than that.”

For the back story click Backstage



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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