The diary of clean beginnings

in the diary of clean beginnings

you make an entry

'let's see a planet as still knowledge'

then another

'it is a night to be stretched, a might of
just one mores'

on the lips of this evening, moon,
sold in press as an
eclipsed earthy brown, sits
blushing behind purple clouds

the turned-over jarrah spits,
smokes profusely upwards,
won't catch

'if I fell now, you'd be disappointed in
what you'd find in my cupboards'


wet brush

you lose your self, wake,
lose the lost. you've pangs

for the warmth of else,
a kind of prang in

a plot you won't know.
blurred now, sly work of

pills. they did tell you
that it won't be etch

or fine shades of H.
B. that will take you,

no. just the back/forth
of wet brush, slow touch,

an ache that births hue,
blood that dries to dust



my words are miscarriages,
the room mops the blood
as symptoms find their opening

she writes...'the myth of locks',
asks me to read aloud...'the moth of licks',
words as miscarriages

a duffle bag of tongue clicking,
whistling, floor tapping, rapid head turns,
symptoms finding their opening

the urge to shout in church,
vibrating inside on bones of pew,
my words as miscarriages

I keep my tongue wound in my teeth,
ignore the throbbing in the gullett
but symptoms find their opening

I reach for her, tap her shoulder,
let fly a staccato burst of caresses
then words as miscarriages,
symptoms finding their opening

Kevin GillamKevin Gillam is a West Australian writer with work published in numerous Australian and overseas journals. His two published books of poetry are Other Gravities (2003) and Permitted To Fall (2007), both by SunLine Press.



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