Two of the poems...
inheritance
when I miss you I think of koalas
not the cuteness of the clinging
or the slovenly chew
but the closeness the stench
the fact that many have chlamydia
but still tourists hold them
the fact their sex sounds like
distressed machinery and chiefly
that their young consume
their mother’s shit the sheer
proximity the trust that
they have eaten well enough
that whatever you put in your mouth
I will put in mine
I read the bloodaxe book of modern australian poetry
I read the bloodaxe book of modern australian poetry to try and feel closer to you but it just makes me feel furter away and like a worse poet so I pour a glass of australian wine which works a little better and look through this small window at a distinctly british field wet with genuine rain you water your grass out there you’re coming on sunday and I’m hoping you won’t mind that our sun is seldom hot enough to bake the land but the sky is kind enough to quench it and deliver me you gift wrapped in silver and sleep half a dozen films deep sent from the future -does it get any better?- I’m not proud of the things that I want but I’m not ashamed for wanting them for him to be happy elsewhere for your mother to know my name they tell us when we’re little if we dig deep enough we’ll get there I trying to train myself out of saying sort-of-girlfriend
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