POEM POEM

inside a paperback about the counter-culture and unravelling intrigue i wrote a poem


was
about
how the sky was full/rammed with dormant drama sliding across the tv roof's like an alien armada
and
how i found i felt gratitude by the pallet allotments of messy council zen/an industrious saturday morning peace lives there
with
the
practically dressed couples saying
LEAVE THEM ALONE, THEY'LL BE FINE
and
the jehovah's witness in the cafe who always remembers my nans open door and my mothers nice letters


home; 
i peep into the garage i was to clear out today 
and the cobweb punch bag i was to rehang today
but 
instead
i sit out on the broken bench
and look at the yellow fields 
laid out behind the house 
like 
a 
table cloth