Tag Archives: Table Poems

Bills

Today I had a bill for $1,511 dollars to pay for a new center differential in my car. I withdrew $1500 dollars in cash from my personal bank account, but was unable to pick up the car because the garage … Continue reading

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Fly

A fly at the far end of my table. A rushed ground-level survey of where I had just been eating and then up in the air to land on the bananas, searching for some slight weakness in their thick skins. … Continue reading

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Freeway

I put on loud music. I am listening to loud music. But the sound scarcely touches me. The blur of still objects. The darkness of incandescent lights. A gap between songs – something can be heard – but then the … Continue reading

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Cloaks

One cloak upon another. Impossible to determine how many. Lifting one of them, I can see the high tide rushing in, flattening the soft sand – the waves miraculous phantoms, the horizon a fading flame. The cloaks hang suspended and … Continue reading

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Sentinel

The evil sentinel squatted on a pillar above the castle gate. Blood, viscera and phlegm draped down his dark reptile skin. His towering wings lightly opened and then closed as he lifted to survey the scene. No amount of darkness … Continue reading

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No Plug

I wait for something distinct this evening – some new object, some other light, some other set of sounds. But it is no good looking or listening for anything intently. Things have to approach me on their own terms and … Continue reading

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Apples

Just a single pineapple left. Some things shiver in the breeze – loose bits of paper, the covers of books. The apples are now visible. Utterly unconscious, they wait to be eaten. They abandon themselves to whatever happens. I cannot … Continue reading

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Huddled

With the lights on, everything appears dead. The fruit looks inedible. All the books look unlegible. My hat seems to have sunk, lost confidence and become smaller. All the paper appears superfluous. Nothing at all seems necessary – except , … Continue reading

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Shrine

Finally summoned the energy to drive out to Warrawong in search of a small table and a bookshelf. Ended up buying a toaster and some wooden coat hangers. On the way back, drove a bit further and stopped at Sandon … Continue reading

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Dark Again

It is becoming dark again. This seems to be the time that I write – as the daylight slips away. I have no music. I have no lights. I can scarcely see the keys. Luckily I can just about touch … Continue reading

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Leeches

I noticed a leech first when I bent down to tie one of my shoelaces. I wagered that there was sufficient time to tie the knot before it reached me. I was just right and headed off quickly down the … Continue reading

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Beckoning

Necessity need not beckon. Beckoning assumes scope for choice. I am beckoned at – I can ignore the beckoning or allow myself to be drawn to the one who beckons. However, if the beckoner does not actually stand at a … Continue reading

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Intestate

A list of things to accomplish today would be useful. Documents to prepare, include in agendas and distribute. A new front motorbike tire and repairs to my car transmission. A visit to the doctor to attend to my hand. Drop … Continue reading

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The Decline of John Fahey

Currents in the grain of wood indicate that the table is not simply a piece of furniture. It incorporates motion within its attitude of quiet reserve. In his late middle age – actually near the end of his life – … Continue reading

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Memory of Her Smile

I follow a steep track up between two high cliffs. The ground is blue with the anticipation of cold. Patches of snow in the gneiss scree. To stop here even for a moment. To imagine this possible. To remember now … Continue reading

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Another Morning

If I am being honest, only the most minor things have changed since yesterday. My phone is almost certainly in a different position, although it still straddles the divide between the table proper and its extension, and it is still … Continue reading

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Beasts

Scanning the table for the horizon and discovering only soft, puffy things or smooth, giggling things, or silent things. An axe, a concrete porch, an immense beast that pulls a plough. The Earth itself is upturned, tripping forward under its … Continue reading

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Thermos

The screech of a cockatoo above my house and out the back. I’m wearing this black jumper with the sleeves rolled up. Actually this is not true – most of the day my sleeves were up, but now they have … Continue reading

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Identity

The brim of my upturned hat describes an arc at the far end of the table, roughly similar to the arc described by the most distant upper lip of the wooden fruit bowl. The closer porcelain bowl appears as a … Continue reading

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Prey

A fold in the top sheet of a spiral bound pad of lined paper, like a bed sheet pulled back to enable easy entry into a single bed on a cold winter night. The branches of the trees are laden … Continue reading

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Housework

Morning brings other thoughts. All thoughts disappear. I am no longer sitting in the sun. My mobile phone, angled slightly sideways, straddles the line separating the table proper from its extension. A book on the Oulipo faces me much more … Continue reading

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Fuck Off

Dusk was blue, red and pearly white above the sea. I headed away from the coast, north along the railway line. The creeks had been recently dredged – inky black with mud, stacks of reeds on the shore. A dark … Continue reading

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Ghosts

She observed that the house probably had ghosts and asked me if I was afraid of them. This had not occurred to me, but since she had mentioned it I responded that I was not afraid of any ghosts that … Continue reading

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Sun and Clouds

Bright, sunny day – the clouds return to my table, crumpled, shiny and soft. The yellow one at the rear billows open for a moment and then returns to its supplicant attitude. Translucent catacombs, with curved, straining arches. Just next … Continue reading

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Strap

A bit of metal on my brown bag juts out like a shoulder. A loop of thicker meal hangs from it. The latter is linked to a strap that shapes bold curves alongside the outside of the more passive bag. … Continue reading

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