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Updated. I couldn’t manage to format the poem satisfactorily (which is the whole point), so here it is as a PDF. Just click on the birdy.
The currawong is a medium-sized bird, native to Australia. An example of their remarkable song is at Currawongs on youtube.
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Stars burned in bright whorls as the ship climbed out of the ecliptic. Below them the Milky Way unfurled its arms — Continue reading
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Comes the last allusion, now the final verse.
Rhythm rhyme and metre, the poem right up close.
Below’s the ending couplet, proceed along the row
One last word, two consonants divided by an o.
Run past the concluding upright, a prop
farewelled by some circle, a blot, a dot.
from which the mighty all
teeming complex
burgeoning illusory
in a finely divided instant
is smeared on an inflating
balloon blown by
a small god
hyperventilating.
Image – NASA / WMAP Science Team [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
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The blender, the former, the calibrated shrinkage.
The proofing, the blocking, the brimming. Continue reading
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… is someone’s beach-idea perfected in whale-bone Continue reading
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Dayna just won’t quit. ‘It’s three in the morning,’ she whined from the darkened bedroom.
How can anyone sleep at a time like this?
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Get ready
“It’s about embracing change,” says Penelope, HR’s hired gun.
Gull grey eyes look at me, just another improbable Ulysses.
Continue reading
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‘It’s tough,’ she said through a mouthful of gristle, munching extra loud to make a point.
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It’s not that I don’t try but mostly I just don’t get it. Continue reading
Peter Frankis writes 