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Siren Shifting


Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

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Siren Shifting

Sea-sick of words upon vessels
The MT Redhead striking leaks
On-board, with men about
Roaring like shot soldiers.

Gut-sick of shells of convenience
Phone cord noose tied hanging
The few dollar connection when
Other lines are dead.

Head-sick of pot-holed poetry
A stolen drop-leaf from a tree
That I endeavour (yet fail) to portray,
As a beauty surpassed by hers.

Cunt-sick of murmured whoring
In annulled beds of recent sex
With members severed from discrepancy
That I am apparently now allowed to lie within.

Tongue-sick of moments spent evaluating
Portraying the episode like a surgeon;
Like an unaffected utensil
Of surgical steel.

Motion-sick of travelling interstate
For timed & measured allowances
Of love dosed behind doors;
The rebellious tribute to our chapters.

Eye-sick of seeing letters
Jarred by a film of transparency
And the click of fingers to send
When vocal chords are strangled by silence and cost.

Dick-sick of connections I donít have
To members of softer skin softer than mine
Sewing and harvesting the sister sinister land
On which Iím unable to plant or sew.

Self-sick of belting out the same letters-
My dismal trick
Of collecting shells and emotion
That only serves to repeat a sickness.

Our memory


Siren Shifting

The sun will rise again
The earth will turn to sand
Creation's colors seem to fade to grey
And you'll see the sickly hands of time
Will write your final rhyme
And end our memory

Poetry Competition



Siren Shifting

Hey you with your
Rubber glove heart, I
Just want to televise, publicise,
State outright and sky-write
That you are a place
Without windows or doors, where I
Always arrive but cannot leave.