I'm your puppet

the wall

sometimes she just watches them go by

tram like a star
Originally uploaded by Sean M Whelan.

sometimes she just watches them go by

tram like a star gone
Originally uploaded by Sean M Whelan.

A Lion in the Hairdressing Salon.

One-thirty five am.
A lion in the hairdressing salon.
I'm walking home, but stop! There's a lion in the window of a hairdressing salon on Brunswick St, Fitzroy.
He looks like he's been there a long time.
But no less ferocious. No less proud.
At the bar, that dress looked like nice.
I should have told her.
I should have told her that hairdressers will do anything to attract a passing potential client, including placing a life sized concrete lion in the window.
But I didn't know that then. Like I know things now.
Little things like lions.
Big things like lions.
Love likes lions.
What are you doing here in the window?
How are you related to hairdressing?
I'll take your picture.
So at least you feel some purpose tonight.
You look like you've been waiting for your picture to be taken for hundreds of years.
Do the clients even notice you?
You look like you've been through some battles.
Yeah, that means you look great.
She looked great in that dress tonight.
No, she's not here now.
I know a couple who kiss every time they see a lion.
Yeah, every time!
No, they're not here tonight. They're a long way from here.
But it seems kind of cute. To do that. To do that anywhere.
No, I don't know if they've seen the Lion King.
I think they would have to watch it alone.
I know a girl who is obsessed by the Lion King though.
She knows all the songs by heart. And sings them in shower.
And she would melt your concrete heart my friend.
Like she melted my mine.
But she's a long way from here too.

here be us

Come with me my love

down to the basement

Don’t tell your friends

I left a note on the fridge

Under the pig shaped magnet

Telling everybody

‘gone diving… don’t wait up’

I wrote a will and posted it to all the major radio stations

That shouldn’t frighten you

It’s not in case we die

It’s in case our eyes should change colour

before we return to the surface

Watch that step, take my hand

Come here my love

Tell me everything that didn’t happen to you today

while I turn out the lights

Remember to breath and exercise your right to punctuation

You don’t want to get the bends

I know it’s dark

but if we stay here long enough

we won’t need eyes anymore

Tell me one thing you love about me before we get any deeper

Okay, I’ll go first

I love the fact that you write notes to your self on the back of your hand

And then if you travel on public transport you insist on wearing gloves to keep your notes hidden from prying eyes

I see you now peering beneath the fold of your glove

MUST BUY MILK.

Now take another step

Are we another note? Written beneath the house?

In 1985 The Jesus & Mary Chain thought they had re-invented rock ‘n roll and that music would never be the same again. At least they can laugh about it now

Will we laugh about this?

In 1952 Englishman John Cobb tried to break the world water speed record in his specially constructed boat The Crusader across Loch Ness. He broke the record, but as he decelerated, something broke the surface of the lake and John Cobb was flung into oblivion forever

If we reach through the tiny basement windows tonight, will we stop the traffic?

Take another step my love, deeper

I know we’re not special, the space we fill now has been filled a thousand times before by lovers far better dressed than us

God doesn’t keep our photo is in his wallet

But snowflakes are overrated, even those lousy butterflies live longer than they do

And everybody knows God can’t swim

That’s why the creatures who live down the very bottom belong to us, not him

He never really wanted us to go in the water, that’s why he put sharks in there

Never leave the boat was the 11^th commandment

So take another step my love. We’re almost at the bottom

Can you see your hand anymore?

Neither can I

That means we’re almost there

Written to the theme of Monster.

Emerging Writers Festival

This weekend I'll be participating in the Emerging Writers' Festival. I'll be reading at the session titled "By the Light of My Laptop - Bloggers and Zinesters Revealed." 7th May 4-5pm. Victoria Hotel, 215 Little Collins Street.
I'm also DJing at the opening to be held on Friday night. Which also features two fantastic writer/performers Philip Norton and Justin Heazlewood (AKA The Bedroom Philosopher.)
There's a lot of great sessions at the festival well worth checking out, some including my sometime collaborative partners, alicia sometimes and Emilie Zoey Baker. For a full program look here.

some things to do when she is nowhere to be found

1. Name a month after her, force it into all the calendars in the house. Surely she will appear during her own month?
2. Sit in the dark, light a candle by your face and wait for her kisses to gather like moths.
3. Cut off the heads of celebrity bodies in magazines and place her face over them instead. Then marvel at her new found fashion sense.
4. Carve Mount Rushmore into all the blocks of cheese in the fridge. All the presidents have her face.
5. Free yourself from this obsession by accepting that you already possess all that you will ever need and this senseless grasping is damaging to the soul… no wait, that’s crazy talk. Go back instead to ringing everybody in the phone book with the same name as hers. Just in case they’ve seen her around.
6. Find a space, any space. Imagine you’re that shape. Like the space in the centre of a record. Go on, be that shape for a second. Does it feel cool? Does it feel existential? No? Okay, it was worth a shot.
7. Don’t trust yourself. Videotape yourself sleeping, in case you’re getting up to no good while your consciousness is looking the other way.
8. Turn up early at the Camberwell market carrying a powerful torch with all the other bargain hunters. Shine the torch into the stallholders faces and ask if they’ve seen a beautiful girl rummaging through their things. If they say no, shine the torch in their face again and ask, “bright enough for ya?”
9. Get health insurance.

I'm hosting Babble this week. I'll be reading a brand new 'Monster' inspired piece.

Matthue Roth

Poet Matthue Roth from San Francisco performing on stage at Babble. Matthue and I will be reading together at Molly Blooms in Bay St, Port Melbourne on Mon 25th April. For more details see below.

a reading Monday night

For my Melbourne friends, just to let you know I'll be giving a reading on Monday night (25th April) at Molly Blooms in Port Melbourne. 39 Bay Street. Apparently they have 2-1 meals too, so why not join me for dinner? Also on the bill will be the amazing Matthue Roth, in Melbourne for a short time from the USA. Starts 7:30. Be great to see you there.

love in space

I'm building a spacecraft in your backyard
mostly from old toilet rolls and tin foil
you sit on the back step
reading People magazine
occasionally glancing up at me
and reading out the names of the stars that
will come with us
"Brittney Spears?" you ask.
"No", I say gently, matter-of-factly. "She's pregnant. You can't fly in space when you're pregnant."
You keep flicking for celestial companions and you look like every birthday present I never got
I turn and look up at the sky
and I wonder if love is simpler
without oxygen
then I ask you
to pass me another roll of tin foil.

Rainy Night Tram Stop #2

Rainy Night Tram Stop

Tram Stop No. 36

Good Soldier

I said to her “Just let me come pick you up Belle. I’ll take you home and drop you off. I won’t even come in. Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed? You’re so far from home. It’s after twelve, there’s no more buses Belle.”

“No more buses?” she said.

“No Belle, not now. Or trains, nothing...”

She didn’t reply.

I could hear the television in the background.

“Listen Belle, I don’t mind coming down there, really. I’ve only had a couple of beers.”

She said “I hate my bedroom. I hate sleeping in it. I don’t like going to bed.”

And then she said that she was cold. And the light in the hallway was too bright and she wished there were a dimmer switch. But there wasn’t. Or if there was, she couldn’t find it.

She started coughing, and I heard her friend Kate laughing in the background. I heard Belle move away from the phone for a moment and shout “He wants to come pick me up. He wants to be a good soldier. But I’m no good, no good. You tell him Kate. Here, take it… tell him I’m no good.”

And then I heard her friend Kate in the background shouting “I’m not telling him that. You tell him.” And then her laughing again and the sound of glass striking glass. And Belle shouting “You bitch! You’ve spilt it. Oh it’s everywhere.” Then Kate was screaming or laughing, I couldn’t tell which.

And then Belle was back on the line “I’m sorry good soldier, there’s been a little accident. Accidents, accidents, they never happen when you expect them to. So inconvenient. I have to go. I think, I think there’s something left. But you probably shouldn’t call again. Not tonight. We’re too far away.”

I said “Belle…”

But there was nobody there.

I rang back twice. It just kept ringing.

I put down the phone and picked up my beer. I went back down the hallway towards the party at the other end of the house, a stranger’s house.

I stopped at the door of somebody’s bedroom. I walked in and turned on the light. It belonged to somebody I had never met. It was a tidy room. The bed was well made. The quilt cover was blue. At the end of the bed was a slight depression in the quilt where it looked like somebody had been sitting, just recently.

I stared at the bed for what seemed like a long time before I turned off the light and closed the door.

front gate 2AM

deep sea heartache - in 3D!

exit stage starboard

you were in my dream last night
just a bit part
you walked in the room
waved and said hi
I was sitting in a chair made out of hundreds of small brass anchors
I raised my hand
which turned into a fish
and waved it back at you
you said
i'm not hanging around this nautical themed dream
the overt symbolism
suggesting that you're out of your depth around me
is so painfully obvious
I can't stand it
and you walked out of the room
which was more of a deck really
I lowered my hand
which swam off into my pajamas
I turned to Leonardo DiCaprio who had been in the corner knitting a lifejacket out of seaweed
and said
do you think she saw you?
no, i don't think so he replied
good, I said, that would have really made her mad.

perspective

Late night street
walking with friends
car goes by
somebody sticks their head out the window and yells
"JESUS LOVES YOU!"
that's nice
at least somebody does
five minutes later
another car goes by in the opposite direction
and another head appears out the window and shouts
"GET OFF THE STREET!"
it's good to get a different perspective on things
and at least we were loved
for a little while