meat for vegetarians

you haven't lived until you've sliced through a fresh, raw mushroom with a sharp knife. the feeling is indescribable. i could slice mushrooms for hours. slice, slice...oh it feels...like...there's not mush room left to take this any further

you just need to breathe really hard

today i'm walking and using digital print machines. there's police and so many cameras. computers. there's a screen in my eyes right. this. second. right. NOW! phone text. speeeeeed type. oh, my mobile telephone's brain predicts words i may be thinking. mind reader. so why do i imagine lashing chocolate biscuits with peanut butter? why do i think of...

8, 6, 2

ladybugs flip
butterflies die
spiders limp

romance

i wonder if i were to simply bang on sadness the way i thump the side of a fuzzy tv...would it clear things up? if i attached one end of jumper leads to some bliss battery and the other to a bit of organ in my guts...

or i'll clean out my wardrobe, think about diets then go sit in an airport to cry.

diamonds are never

bruises are there to be pushed. they're impromptu scars the colour of sky preparing for rain. a reminder for a week or so that something pressured that area of you so much it stained. you're like a bruise. you know, you left a little patch of the remnants of popping blood tubes under my skin. and then you faded away. and i didn't cry. my heart didn't start flopping out. no tears juiced up. you were easy to throw away. later, it was anger that fell out of my mouth. but it all landed on the carpet and spiralled up in a vacuum. dust is all it was. just particles. and i can't help it...but now and then i miss you like crazy. and i have these thoughts i try not to document but always do. and eventually they fossilise and get discovered and dug up and polished and re-assembled so some kind of exhibition will have relics. so push my bruise. push it. hard. so that pain starts tumbling out of my eyeballs and washes down the plug hole...

bubbleblower

i'm so obsessed with licking the corners of your teeth. it's the little upside-down calcium summits that nip at me and make my heart hang and swing in the wind. you're such an understatement. who knew i could feel stomach hurricanes? impossibility is curving and shaping up to be truth. i just want to think about you. and love. and the unexplanations of time. to have these, so many of these, pinches me in the nerves and smashes my chest in. the luckiest pain i've ever felt. and you, your toes and lips and physical is untouchable. wild. edged. roughed. untouchable is all there is. when really, we're just chinks in bridges and tunnels and elusive little pieces of architecture.

prix palms

maybe twas the rain, but this afternoon albert park lake was wearing lip gloss.

and i ran the loop with a grin between my hot cheeks and a less busy mind.
there were swans.

felt the 'good' sting of mud bullets splatting my calves. i was a jogging pollock.

melbourne came out in its best angles, leaning on the storm's wake.

then sun cracked and bled between mist lines to flatter the sky line's
blades and drape a bit of tipsy light all over...

in love in trolley

on the bright side of the tracks. two sculptures of woven metal. grids of empty steel noughts and crosses games welded together. these shopping trolleys glint and lay on their sides beside one another. how they wish their metal would melt and bend so they could spoon and perhaps hold each other rather than holding someones fortnightly groceries. they need too. they were structured for each other and dumped down the same ditch from the same sidewalk. although left comes from coles, right from safeway. rivals. opposites. magnets. these two were not destined for flying off the end of a jetty or an alternative ride home for drunk fellow. no. their destiny lays here. on a patch of side track, express between malvern and south yarra stations. and how do i know? i know cos when the trains cease to run through those gentle hours of melbourne night, these two live. they date by the lone pink flower between armadale and toorak. and i know sparks and fireworks expolded the stuffing out of that matress just before hawksburn.

monkey hands

juicy cakes, raspberries, candy kisses. a little black belly.
bubbles and bursts.

floating.
drifting.
spinning, gliding.
bouncing through pastel paint pandemonium.

jiving and jovial. springs and somersaults.

potent. parted.
pitch-black envy.
link. lap. lick. loop.

loiter like.
butter. blocks of drips.
fall.
slurp.

missing hips.
passionfruit pulp.
missing hip holes.

spit and splash. sleuth and shades of gleam green. painting rain.

slink.
ache.
smile.
ache.
slice. little black wrists.

plunge and burrow to bones. skin. plead.
parachute.

plunge.
limp and flip.
dripping and bleeding.
gulps of impatience.

little black hands.
vrooms. vibrates.
shivers. shakes.

shatter. snip.
shatter.
snip.
shatter.



snip.

legs legs legs legs legs legs pincer

this morning i steamed an earwig.

someone threw a fridge at him

i'm not sure but perhaps the humble fridge is taken for granted. let's say 'thankyou' and find appreciation for this piece of cold that's there in the inside.

liquid golden

it nips me in the senses. the honey in my belly button going bounce, bounce, pinch. across tongues and in and out of gums. a spoonful lets itself in. and this is gold liquid. this is sweetness and sex and liquid love looping. gold. golden so. delicious. sticky and dippy and melting down sense. sticky, stick on and gloss, make me a second skin...

and beer. gold hearts plus fizz. give me your drunk legs. beer in my throat. beer in the sun behind the clouds. beer in my eyes and behind my eyes. in the shower. in my voice. spilling and tipping and tapping, overflowing. beer in my phonecall to you. my dreams. my night out. my morning out and this morning in...

ellemennopee

oppress peddle pop pimento impress mip ped depress pimpernal pim

change here for

highlights from my view of the train tracks...

• 1 small piece of blue plastic. broken, cracked.
• somebody's hat (weather beaten) (not the colour it used to be) (weaved into the tracks) (actually, it's part of the earth now).
• the word 'ERG'.
• tubing, particularly orange tubing. empty arteries of the city.
• the word 'MONSTA'.
• somebody else's hat, in quite good condition.