Brand New 3-year Warranty


 
Waiting for the man to
give me the warranty on my new electric heater, half price
 
The sign outside flapped
ecstatically

cRaZy pR!CeS!!, I read

whilst the same morning wind
blew in two other men
with the same bright orange as Mr Warranty

you warm enough there love?? ya look priddy warm.

mm, yes. turtlenecks. I mumbled

aw, where’s that cayute accent from?

my parents, actually

the receipt printed loudly amidst blokey chuckles
I left, lugging my heater away

noice to meet you, love!

ah, yep. bye…

trailing off down the street, heater in tow

I mused on people
and their differences

Divisions


dividing orange-yellow days
finite as ever before
fixing glasses on a tuesday
to the tea I hold today, on a wednesday
 
staying immaculate with purple lips on a night
frustration over dinner just a wisp
in the wind of the moon upstairs
and perfume spilling as water, your breath
 
though
I spoke of nothing yesterday
each minute a metal rod
collected around our feet
far from made-up cobwebs in the shop
 
sitting downstairs in the library
a face in a stripe of light
and a woman in pink outside
carrying the skeleton of a forgotten animal
 
the frowning building next-door
a wish and a hope
encased soft in white bread
suffocating silent in plastic tears
 
but enough nonsense now
for this year is better
and the leaves we hold onto
as they fall of their own accord
 
glimmering shadows
past the paint of
your fresh cream door

Six o’clock and I’m sitting upright


April 1st April 4th April 7th, 18th, 25th
blank upper-space A4
Pound, occupation: Modernist, why?

3 hours for self-improvement 101
it’s all you could find
looking at the clock to write the numbers on your hand
from the get up, the get go:
information leak 0.25, 0.5, 0.75

praxis, parallelograms, politically, philologically
fixated frustrated frowns –
Forward it through, friend.
Friend?
For what, for life? for coffee?

you’ll have to wait, then
this won’t be finished until oh, Your application has been received, tick
? Yes, oh, yes, uh
skinny flat white no sugar please
$3.40, $3.80, $3….
and what are they, those slices of – could you tell me -? Never mind

Running late, meet me on the corner
behind building 9 no building 10 no
Skip that, today is rehearsal week 5
1.2.8.

Wait,
I
missed it

Strain

hubris-flavoured hair gel
down the side of his beaming head
transfixed in a gaze
toward the other side of the room
sweat gathering
soaking through the creases of his ironed white shirt
beige designer umbrella, $7.99
grip tight slip-slide
“well, hey mate!”
reciting his script
greasing the hinges, the bolts
where he puts himself
animal eyes left and right
scolding his twitching chest
the organ can’t forget
even in the iron-cased chair
before the inferior and after the superior
between a hundred other chest protrusions in a line
all slick with the shine
of protein-powdered biceps
cock-scented calculators
sum it up for him,
the greatness of being one like the others.