my situation

Two blackbirds, a speckled thrush

& a myna casually shit upon the deck

regular each morning, peck the wooden

cat bowls & when I surprise them, leave.


I end up with these friends. I’m no Snow

White but I do like to feed them which is

my fault, I know. But who knows, because

I don’t think that accounts for it entirely.


Last year this cat moves in. I’m at

the front door as he jumps the fence,

brushes past my leg; puts his bag down,

showers, takes a long stretch, & curls up

on the sofa. WTF. The other cats

don’t like it but what can you do?


Today I wiped the deck & tied nylon string

across the posts, 40 mil above the railing

which I’m told will put the birds off.



It’s the next day now & only the myna came,

which is not as good as nothing but ok.


So, what: am I reduced to this state



The soul may yet rise

as the flesh declines. Because.


When I lie at night some-time

dead tired.. I’m, not there

anymore or, yet sleeping..


I’m nowhere I know or

no place at all.


Miles away. Even

the crimson flowers

of the Pohutukawa

do not claim me.

The house & garden.

Victoria Street. The Museum.


Where I am

makes no difference

to my situation,


which colours everything.


2 thoughts on “my situation

  1. I enjoyed the the transition from the certainty of other life forms, made things, dissolving into the ‘nowhereness’ of the blank white canvass beneath the painting.


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