A
Sailors Moon
Twenty
six years, where's it all gone,
starting
alone, finishing alone,
but
many memories along the way,
happiness
found, swinging hip sway,
many
occasions and none too soon,
none
more wise than a Sailors Moon.
Sunny
career, full of light,
sunrise
to brighten up the dreary night,
many
friends and faces true,
so
many I can't remember who,
and
if any had been mixed up by the spoon
they'd
all be wiser in my Sailors Moon.
Many
ships on many seas,
too
many times, drunk on my knees,
too
much forgotten from the night before,
waking
in the morning on someone's floor,
totally
smitten with women who swoon,
totally
belittled like a Sailors Moon.
Very
tough those seas so rough,
nary
seasick while others had had enough,
working
hard, time while's away,
every
ship working strong, all the day,
making
life's travesty a happy croon,
singing
a song to a Sailors Moon.
Dark
Side of the World or is the Earth flat?
I
woke up this morning,
alarm
clock ringing - nine a.m.,
lifted
the blinds,
it
was still dark outside,
turned
on the radio, talkback
and
everyone was crying,
the
world had stopped.
Looked
in the mirror, I was still the same!
Lived
on the Dark Side of the World now
wondered
if brightside pioneers were curious
as
to how we lived over here,
smiled
laconically to myself,
a
darky, like half the population
or
would they move daily to equalise?
I
lit a smoke, and shone for a minute.
People
no longer called their kids Sunny,
or
punched arms and said "hey there Sunshine"
no,
we just wonder if the earth was flat out dying
and
called ourselves darkies anyway,
I
met a brightside on honeymoon,
he
was amazed!
Electricity
charges are higher now and there are always
two
moons on the highway coming at you.
Skin
cancer rates are down,
hospitals
full of those with eye problems,
birth
rates are up, bed time all the time,
yet
we don't miss the sun excepting
for
all the dead trees and plants, and yes
we
have to import food from Brightside,
they
don't mind, they understand.
The
world stopped, yet life went on.
Did
I tell you about the weather?
Next
time maybe.
The
12 Hour Timesheet
i.
Forgive
the language
it’s
about to explode
all
over the page
all
over the fucken road
ii.
I
mated with a black witch
we
had a grey child
yet
our lips are pink
when
mingling
iii.
there’s
this old cunt
lives
down Framby Avenue
he’s
been tormenting children
that
stop at his door begging for fun.
iv.
my
baby floats in jello
she’s
fucked her life badly
I
try to rescue her daily
but
teasing old men suits her fine
v.
lettuce
leaves covered in snail trails
I
was and clean
dusting
off spam
apple
seed coverings
today
the fucking light shone black
vi.
ok
so he screwed her big time
the
life of a sailor hazardous
gonorrhea
and herpes
maybe
even a punch in the head
till
dawn drunken matelots
service
the netherworld women
and
them they.
vii.
capsicum,
green, yellow, red
mixed
with mince
a
drop of Dolmios
and
onions to kill for
a
delicious mixture
served
with macaroni.
viii.
i
delighted in ecstasy
fucked
this island virgin
on
a beach white
from
coral and sun,
we
humped like baby pigs
till
dawn’s light
she
told me - in Tongan
she
loved me,
i
said thank you, and ran
ix.
the
valve on the old radio
sparkled
and warmed
the
station too sketchy
to
tune into.
x.
remorse,
I’m sorry
the
language so guttural
so
esoteric sailor speak
the
black humour
a
thing to cherish
a
dead person
treated
like shit
just
because we are alive,
pass
the remote,
I
need to sanctify.
xi.
ok
so I went
from
the New House
to
the outhouse,
my
time on the streets
magnified
by
days in dust
and
rubbish bins,
a
passing stranger
treated
like crap,
like
the turd they are,
they
have a life
mines
exorbitantly dashed.
xii.
i
sometimes lie on my back
under
the spreading Kowhai
a
Tui wings it’s way in
pecks
at the flowers,
a
bird song of pure joy
emanates
into the ether
summer
this year fine
with
nature singing “all’s well”
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