When a Gypsy Makes Her Violin Cry

When a Gypsy Makes Her Violin Cry My lips are still but a haunting thrill fans a smouldering fire When a gypsy makes her magic strings sigh Again to me comes the memory of an old desire She draws her bow and seems to know That love once hurt my heart And as she plays for me I’m lost in…   …read more.

The Underwear Song

I am down to my last pair of underwear and it seems to me that it’s long past time to do laundry. I swear, I never do anything until I absolutely have to, until everything is “past due.” These deadlines seem to dominate my day I am subjected to their power; I am their prey They are looming, lurking, laughing…   …read more.

Slipping to My Knees

Somewhere between this bench and the tabletop, I am staring down at my fraying jeans. Threads that dangle, strangle instensity and there’s an absentee thought swirling outside of my brain. If it’s anything like an absentee landlord, I am slowly going insane and the plaster is coming with me But I can’t let myself go Because “let” is a word…   …read more.

Tram #86

It was a misty Melbourne evening and the tram was delayed as we sat on a bench, our gear splayed out before us, like bodies on the sidewalk. It’s hard to talk about the down days when we’re so lucky to be so far away. But, we were seemingly sinking, there we were: migraine and frustration, thinking, thinking “Travelling without…   …read more.

Competing? You Choose

Competing is what we do Whether it’s for first chair in the orchestra pit or for academic scholarships, we compete we compete over who has the fastest car, the whitest teeth, the biggest feed lot farm, the most nuclear arms, the skiniest waist, the most beautiful face we compete until somebody wins, we compete until someone is beaten down we…   …read more.

Boinked (The Bride)

White dress and a sticky mess all over your conscience Happy is your day today, but forever is your penance. Sweetness seeps from lipstick smiles, then “pursed-lipped-ish” flutter We are curving straight-backed aisles; we are the pattern of “other” Yes it seems we’re out of place, my lover and I especially when the people turned to me and asked (with…   …read more.

Lick Your Lips

Summertime… Lick your lips Summer time Curl your callused fingertips around the sound of Summertime… Lick your lips How can we possibly employ a better mood altering incense than this is love intense, this joyous noise? Better than a sold-out gig with double encore and magic in the wings. But I can make you have a double encore too! And…   …read more.

Rubber Bullets

We are ready to fight We are ready to fight it all. We are ready to fight with our minds We are ready to fight with our words Let me ask you: Who is going to police the police? When they’re shooting up the streets SHOOTING RUBBER BULLETS We are ready to fight FIGHT THEIR RUBBER BULLETS We are ready…   …read more.

Stiltwalking

We drove straight into the morning, watched the shadows slowly lift, the blackness shift and turn to navy, purple, teal and the perfect sky blue Somehow, the distance seems more real when it floats into view. We have come so far – so far to go We have had to rise above so much crap, strapping on a different world…   …read more.

Ten Feet Tall

We spent the hour on a random bar’s balcony with beer and view – you don’t ask anything about me, you don’t offer much about you It’s been a year, and I hear you’re cool with everyone these days I shouldn’t let your disinterest phase me, but it’s not that easy We sit there and I watch you not care…   …read more.

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