Contemporary Australian Poetry.

Pièce de Shakespeare by Michele Seminara

sonnet four looks like the sea by Connor Weightman

Sheath

by Les Wicks

 

Each shell is a lifetime’s work

&worth. Sputum, memories some

dark, hard little victories glimmer at the edges

like eyes drunk on a pretence that futures are seen.

We two men walk an overgrown riverside track.

 

I was right there man, I was offin’ myself.

 

Crusts are worn like

signature coats around town.

Don - his casing had that extra shine last week -

a corona of certainty. Almost

hilarity. The decision had been made.

 

I felt the tingle mate, told myself

that was IT.

 

This carapace, it should have a weight, is

certainly something each must bear

though it corrodes, transforms. Something

to do with ingredients -

guilt& outrage will kill slowly.

Struts are built of boredom

that very human poison.

 

Don’t know why I fucken rung 000.

Don’t know why I’m talkin’ to you.

 

Perhaps this thing is a cocoon

though we carry it all our lives there are rumours of ‘emergence’.

One can scarcely look at these trails of abrasion,

there’s some promise - those wild disfigurements of flight.

 

Alongside this watercourse we have so little to say.

Our  struggle through reeds, insects

tax us to white. There

are crabby sky slits in all this

inclemency of vapour. One foot forward

into a time. A channel of floozy water emerges up ahead;

a river births from chicanery.

We will fly.

 

Feel bloody great now mate, go figure.

LES WICKS has toured widely and seen publication in over 300 different magazines, anthologies & newspapers across 20 countries in 11 languages. His 11th book of poetry is Sea of Heartbeak (Unexpected Resilience) (Puncher &Wattmann, 2013).

http://leswicks.tripod.com/lw.htm