Word

When I moved in to the large, narrow terrace
house, a flatmate was midway through the East
Sydney College Acting course, and, as a musician,
he said, in the pale yellow walls of the red-floor
kitchen, ‘the people are better in theatre’.
I auditioned successfully at the next intake;
and with a poem like this, based on the memory,
propelled on the need to revisit the time, the literary
expectation is that the poet will have filtered
out his nostalgia,for the quanta of mead,
through early drafts, finding the piece its heart,
the quicksilver fluids of reflection, emotion
without the embarrassment of display,
the unselfconscious shinny feeling waves
thespians parade to validate their cause,
but I haven’t got time for that, there are paintings,
and payed work, and a boy approaching puberty,
who comes over and shares my apple.
mead is made of honey, and in these words
is the pollen for you to make your own fermented drink,
and unless you’re in the ‘network’ no munny comes of poetry,
so no one pays attention: but I’m glad I didn’t fail
in Success, not having any actual time where I succeeded.
Drama started up though, shadows of the spotlight
which could have come, I brushed shoulders
with the known, featured briefly, on a list of maybe so,
yet I walked away unknown, but I understood
the Craft, saw, like those four and half years deckhand
on a commercial fishing boat ‘got’ what it takes a man
to work the sea. I filmed well, was pretty young, bi,
and large enough on stage in various roles,
and if you put the world’s perversions on a dartboard,
and sent the dart in unaimed looping arch, there’d
be something you could compromise me with,
by which I’ve now implied in Fame I could be owned,
plenty of mead popped pollen in my taste buds,
bent towards expulsion from the norms, luciferic
by the moors presumed conventional, but I wasn’t
into that sort of thing, circles intersected, as they will,
everywhere, being more of a philosophy
than a religion, a theosophical consideration
for how things actually happen to move
from the Will to the event manifest: the
greatest show on Earth
is what you will do
next, when your eyes have
stepped on and
then off this last
word.

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2 thoughts on “Word”

  1. What a display of shiningness, and verbal glitter, Dean, an awesome conclusion:
    The greatest show on Earth
    is what you will do next,
    when your eyes have stepped on
    and then off this last
    word.

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