Abracadaver

As someone who has no certainty
I’m certain there is a trick.
Stayed quiet, broken Philip Glass half full
read about success, hung my disbelief as
the gangrel rosellas fell free... they stained
an ironed, crisp white page before that fade,
runaway beige.
Thanked them for that as
realtors shot blindly at the sun.

If money is not the point
(it can be sharp)
then I’m speechless. There was a plan...

Can’t be love, it’s too sore has
slept around, crick in the neck
& already has a real job.
I lie back, take the nasal squirt
of Oxytocin because hugs are drugs.
We skitter through whole days.

So back here
please
don’t pay attention as the scarves go tumbling.
Be wrapped with me in
this legerdemain of ink,
the shadows of our feat.

---

Les Wicks has been published across 19 countries in 10 languages. His 11th book of poetry is Sea of Heartbeak (Unexpected Resilience) (Puncher and Wattmann, 2013). He's performed recently at the World Poetry Festival (Delhi), Beyond Baroque (L.A.), Austin International Poetry Festival (Austin), Brett Whiteley Studio (Sydney), RhiZomic (Sydney) & Struga Poetry Evenings. He can be found at leswicks.tripod.com/lw.htm.