Friday, April 29, 2005

The Natural History Museum

I was sketching a wobbegong
with my new
uniball micro

In my bag, a sprig
of rosemary.

Amoeba pseudopodia

(a sprog of syllables for a single cell)

I bevelled my face
to a balustrade smoothness.

I combed my canopy
with a few slats of sun.

This is a ripper poem, George. I suspect you are missing Coogee, ay!
Well, yes I am ... but did you sense that from this poem? I wrote it in 1987 when I was still living in Sydney.
Yep, I did sense it. A few clues there.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?