bend of the river with trees and dusk sky


cliff climbs out of the sun
moss against it
angles of bark
walls brush

clouds once were the fastest thing


shadows and grass spun
wings fall like leaves
when they so will
air at an angle to tilt

dreaming clouds


twigs of all ages
lapping the far shore
clouds the ridge hides
pink to an edge

for their final shape

TWO SONGS

two songs:

bundanong’s song


kangaroos jump through the fences at Bundanon
you turn around and when you look back the roos are gone

Arthur Boyd painting in his studio at Bundanon
he gave it to the nation and that’s how come I can sing this song

kookaburras laugh their heads off at Bundanon
they look pretty silly flying around with no heads on

toss up my hat cause I’m so happy at Bundanon
you can see me running down the hill to the river
chasing it along

kitten in pyjamas

for children and adults

looked in my bedroom and what did I see?
there was a kitten in pyjamas looking back at me
she was a kitten in pjyamas
she was a kitten in pjyamas
a kitten in pjyamas
and you know what I mean!

there’s a gate out beyond all paddocks

there’s a gate out beyond all paddocks

set that way portentous
sun that way
like the golden ute
gone its russet run
among those swag bedraggled gods
wiping their chins with billy tea
rum
whatever they can get their hands on

more shadows than trees

they’re out there
believe me

Nowra

Nowra

I remember
hitchhiking 1975
and a mean old man slowed down to leer
shouted something we couldn’t make out
and then we saw his teeth fall out

in hieroglyphics

in hieroglyphics

darker with ridges
and orange along
there’s river green
thirst slaked
great girth there
and higher
where time’s had more luck
drab camouflage draws the forces

keep on until you can read this

unnumbered fragment

unnumbered fragment

you could walk around the homestead forever –
and given certain needs for food and warmth and dreaming met –
never tire of it, never be bored –
this would be the virtue of being a ghost
and why it is worth considering

this is the land

this is the land
in me
reminds
those who could have been born here
or there
this is a past life
when I was the prince
and cockroaches came to worship

my country
ah
the smug returning
tax me bastards now
and I will tax the land with turnings
tune words to paper
so they take to air

my anthem in a land of droppings
step where you will but beware

this is land our fathers shat –
how brave that makes me

whatever catches eye gets grip
so watch – we’re going to find a way –
that’s home
and some day when the dollar’s high
I’ll sail back there– I will

a poet’s life is full of fun
there’s time to kill
and thrill and spill

I’ll have my time with the sky