Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – The Endless Cycle of Guinea-Pigs

You buy a guinea pig
and you love it
but it needs a friend
to keep it company.

And you love it,
so you buy another
to keep it company
and now you’ve got two happy little pigs.

So, you bought another
and they’re happy together;
your two happy little pigs
but one’s just a little younger.

And they’re happy together
despite their differences,
because one’s just a little younger,
the other just a little wiser.

Despite the difference
in their age
(one’s just a little wiser)
you think of them like brothers.

Then their age
takes its toll
you thought of them like brothers
but now there’s only one.

It takes its toll,
and it’s very sad,
now there’s only one
to love.

And it’s very sad;
it needs a friend
to love.
You buy a guinea pig.

This is my first ever Pantoum – I’ve been wanting to try writing one for some time, and actually had a different subject in mind for my first, but then I saw this article about Switzerland’s Endless cycle of Guinea Pigs and couldn’t resist.

Published in: on September 22, 2011 at 1:56 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Snares

I can think of no better death
than ensnared
in the long nets you’ve cast
deep into the undersea rivers of my lust
dragging me
inch by inch
onto the long white beaches of your thighs
pulled gasping
from the cool, silvery light
exploding into the bright, exquisite reality
above reality –
no little death,
but the
ultimate exhaustion
that lies
at the end of your nets.

Published in: on August 19, 2011 at 3:41 pm  Comments (2)  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Fur Aemilia

More like BADISHES!
Let me tell you;
if I had three wishes,
they wouldn’t be for radishes!
What surer ruiner of tasty dishes,
than a bunch of vile radishes?
They stink more than fishes!
They’re nowhere near as tasty as knishes!
They appeal only to those with masochistic fetishes!
No, not for all the world’s riches,
would I ever love radishes!
They don’t even go in quiches!
(Seriously, EVERYTHING goes in quiches!).
It’s like they occupy some terrible niche,
like a horrible, vegetably leech,
they’re not even OK-ish,
they’re just the horrible,

Published in: on August 4, 2011 at 11:59 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Brick

You were the universe atomised;
an infinity in the palm of my hand,
an everything
broken into playthings
for the godhood of my youth,
there to be broken apart
and reassembled
on a whim –
your fates written in my own hand,
your selves built in the image
of whichever divine desire
took hold of my heart.
But now I am a man,
and I have put away my childish things,
for new toys to pull apart,
and new fates to rewrite
like so many Lego pieces
in my far-reaching hands.

Published in: on July 21, 2011 at 11:58 am  Leave a Comment  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Reverb

Maybe you’re stuck in my head
like a song,
and I can’t decide if I need to hear you
again and again –
or drown you out with different melodies,
until the silence of my mind
is the requiem for our love.

Published in: on July 10, 2011 at 11:36 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – A Letter to America from 92,897 Australians

Dear America,
can you just, like, chill out?
Seriously, you used to be cool, 
back in the days of Empire, 
you were like our older brother 
that left home at fifteen, 
joined a rock band, 
and sent us post-cards from Vietnam 
(before it was a popular tourist destination) 
but now you’re just a middle-aged economist 
who cares way too much about petrol prices 
and not enough about Rock ‘n Roll 
and partying.

Published in: on June 23, 2011 at 11:24 pm  Comments (2)  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Spud

Fine. I’ll write a poem that’s not erotic.
I’ll write about potatoes,
plain old potatoes,
rough, dirty potatoes,
hard, dirty potatoes,
dirty, dirty potatoes,
with their smooth curves
that so perfectly fill the hand,
so firm,
so round,

…so hungry.

Published in: on June 9, 2011 at 11:31 pm  Comments (2)  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Press

I could write
about the impossible aquamarine
of your eyes,
about the supernovas in my chest
every time I see you,
about the tender touch
of your breath on my ear,
but let’s be frank.
I have lips,
you have lips,
everything thing else is incidental.

Published in: on May 26, 2011 at 11:39 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Scratch

You are a task on the edge of memory,
in the barely-waking
of almost-dawn.
You are a dryness of eyeballs,
a pressure beneath skin,
a parching of mouth,
but not yet ignored.

A choice almost not-made.

And yet…

Do I scratch you,
subtle itch,
or roll back into sweet oblivion,
and unknowing?

Published in: on May 12, 2011 at 7:44 pm  Comments (1)  
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Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Watermelon

are the watermelonniest
that ever
You make other watermelons
look like rockmelons.
Dry rockmelons.
More rocks, really,
than melons.

People are probably going to think
this is some sort of elaborate metaphor
and that’s fine
let ’em.
The important thing
is that we know the truth,
my love.


I meant to say


Published in: on April 28, 2011 at 5:20 pm  Comments (5)  
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