my situation

Two blackbirds, a speckled thrush

& a myna casually shit upon the deck

regular each morning, peck the wooden

cat bowls & when I surprise them, leave.

 

I end up with these friends. I’m no Snow

White but I do like to feed them which is

my fault, I know. But who knows, because

I don’t think that accounts for it entirely.

 

Last year this cat moves in. I’m at

the front door as he jumps the fence,

brushes past my leg; puts his bag down,

showers, takes a long stretch, & curls up

on the sofa. WTF. The other cats

don’t like it but what can you do?

 

Today I wiped the deck & tied nylon string

across the posts, 40 mil above the railing

which I’m told will put the birds off.

 

2

It’s the next day now & only the myna came,

which is not as good as nothing but ok.

 

So, what: am I reduced to this state

of.

 

The soul may yet rise

as the flesh declines. Because.

 

When I lie at night some-time

dead tired.. I’m, not there

anymore or, yet sleeping..

 

I’m nowhere I know or

no place at all.

 

Miles away. Even

the crimson flowers

of the Pohutukawa

do not claim me.

The house & garden.

Victoria Street. The Museum.

 

Where I am

makes no difference

to my situation,

 

which colours everything.

2 Responsesso far.

  1. Mark Prisco Mark Prisco says:
    28/12/2017 at 8:52 pm

    thanks very much, Dean. i like what you say

  2. Dean English Dean English says:
    23/12/2017 at 4:58 pm

    I enjoyed the the transition from the certainty of other life forms, made things, dissolving into the ‘nowhereness’ of the blank white canvass beneath the painting.

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