Off the cuff

we love in a broken way
its the distance, and our
commitment, like, 50/50
its tidal
like the tamar
though really that
makes it an estuary
theres a love metaphor
in there somewhere
muddy banks and all
probably 30/70

story archs

i want to fall in love
i want my hands to
always smell of burnt
peanut butter toast

i want you to notice
i want to live in a
place where i can have
my own washing machine

i want to go outside
in the cold without
my nose going red

i want to breathe you
into my lungs
instead of mild tobacco

i want somewhere other
than the salsa i just
bought to stub out
said cigarette

but fuck i guess its
just salsa and its too
salty unless you make
it yourself so id
sacrifice it all
communal laundries and
somewhere to dip my doritos
if i could just have you

we could make so much
babies and salsa

bendigo

Could he drive you in
his car
eat a caramel slice
in one hand
and hold your fingers
tight in the other?

id do it if my car was auto
or my skateboard fit two
we spent our teens
sneaking around
drinking schnapps
having sex in single beds
or on stained
carpet clumsily
id walk you exactly half
the way home because
that was fair but
romance isnt fair
nor was how you blamed
me for your smoking
habit stealing my winfields
in rosalind park does not
a trend make

gabby ran into you at
a party her tone
was indignant when
she told me what you said
i liked that and her new
red hair but thats just
an unresolved childhood
attraction to the little
mermaid

I love you; here's a poem that will help to confuse the issue further.

last time we were
drinking you said youd
marry someone you loved less
capturing the moment except
your perfume Ive had
beer and whisky and wine
but tonight I haven't had you
or the spot between your breasts
your neck
where i press my face and exhale
from my shoulders
we both have big teeth but
yours are better the last time
we lay in front of this fire it wasnt cold
but we would have been naked
if it was this time
like i said
whisky wine and beer
but if you were here
i doubt id be up to it
anyway

Red Wine Teeth

Glass eyes

         Red wine teeth

Skip James

        Killing floors

Tupelo

        Ebb and flow

Texts to my family

        Tangled headphones

Distant clouds 

        Capture the sunset

Like a photo

        I don't trust you

Melodrama

shadows and smoke
cigarettes and cynicism
i want to love like a film
noir without the inevitable
lung cancer

i have a collection of hats
you have mystery hanging
about you like you've bathed
in chanel no 5 and i'm
its junkie

i'm not an ex-cop or
blood diamond dangerous
at best i'm a hazard
like wearing a dressing gown
on the toilet

Dear Vasco,
autumn has come once more to Curly Flat. the leaves
are falling, the days are becoming shorter and certain
birds have already departed. In the forest, yesterday
evening, I came upon a child crouched over a
tiny grave and placing flowers carefully around
the little cross made of twigs. I learned from
the child that it was a bird's grave and when
I asked what kind of bird the child, after a
long pause, simply replied, "a small, brown
bird." I left the child to its devotions and
passed on into a darker part of the forest,
with all its grandeur and peace, and was
there filled suddenly with a great grief
and also a great, tender joy and gladness
for what I had just seen. Then, a little
tearfully, I lay down on the forest floor
to contemplate the divinity of children
and small brown birds and, so doing,
I fell into a deep and blissful sleep on
a bed of ferns. How I love the forest
Vasco and how radiant is the autumn with
all its dying and going to sleep.
    Warm wishes to yourself and the duck
              Yours Truly,

                        Mr. Curly

p.s such tears and such sleeps are very good
     for the complexion, so I'm told!

Taken  from Michael Leunig's book 

'The Curly Pajama Letters'

I  strongly urge you to buy a copy

Slim