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Count the Kicks

22 Oct

Against the flow.
Sun rises as I am westing:
jams are easting.

Central Station, Sydney.
Assist passengers in my
Air Force uniform.

Count the kicks.
Follow a stone all
the way home.

Manly Ferry.
Suits brave the waves and Heads
for Circular Quay.

One hundred minutes.
Rain-striped windows diddley-dum
the one glimpse of countryside.

Ericlea Minoa.
“Beware of the Vipers”.
Drawn past by goat bells.

Hove Park.
After tea I kept goal.
I was “Blackie”!

Shirt sleeved.
Close encounters with kangaroos
in King George Square.

Desk bound.
Rugged up, I shun
lions, pigeons, and an admiral.

Speed Poets Sunday.
I drive to Bohemia where the microphones
are open and loaded.

Sub-machine gun.
Traffic duty is hot work
in Bangkok.

Three ranks on the road.
Port Phillip Bay smell recedes as we
pace-step for barracks and bar.

Walk to the workstation.
Wish and while away
my life.


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1 Comment

Posted by on 22 October, 2010 in POEMS

 

One response to “Count the Kicks

  1. Trudie Murrell

    23 October, 2010 at 9:23 am

    I like. Makes me think of a patchwork quilt of your adventures.

     

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