Posted in Rituals

Old & New

They had two boys
at about that age
she spoke to their father
suggesting he speak to him about
“ WHAT?”
Huffing and puffing trails to ….. “ that’s your job.”
“ Well Micheal,” she replied
“they are boys,
and you do seem to understand the mechanics of it. ”
She did
“ oh Mum we’ve done that at school – they showed us a DVD.”



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.