Wooden Bridge


My feet move like the negotiations

of a containership approaching berth.

The eyes are the city building glass

they slip beyond the trees

scratch the humming sea.

Know so little

oyster.


My fingers are ferries

teeth are loam

my back is gantry

this hair is an introduced flowering weed

ears carry the wind.

I am this harbour neither whole nor unholy.


In free supply but undrinkable

lantana manana

man in a mangrove

embarrassed cluster

an afterthought.


National Park railings keep me up,

keep ground down

Serious injuries may occur at cliff.

Beneath a rigged fig—down to the beach

we must have our fun

food acid/sugar

sand castles & tinted society-mums.


I go to the change sheds

to embrace change.

Copyright © 1999-2017 Juked