Posted in Passages

Past Imperfect

Bouncy castle, sausage sizzle, face painting
scratch band music
a day out –
high country power station, $2 per person
or $5 family admission –
child cancer the benefactor.
See water spun to electricity
attend the village domain fair.
Margarine yellow sun
Monet blue sky
TV advertiser family picnic.
Walking the perimeter I saw her
scandinavian blonde just beginning to platinum
late model SUV,
designer hamper, rug and accoutrements
corporate looking husband –
law, public relations, consultancy ….
two gorgeous children …. now…. 47 at a guess
21+26, yes, 47.

Cut from
a room, marijuana cloud hung
brooding music, hopeful men
marijuana – so tame to her wildness –
pills and potions and promiscuity,
she was greedy for all, and then some.
Eye contact,
and a smile : recognition… and request – non verbal –
hello. And, please don’t.



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.