Toxic Masculinity

I’ve seen men die under trains, I’ve seen addicts die behind bathroom doors,

I think I’m in a position to know about toxic masculinity.

I’ve prayed to Jesus on my hands and knees like a Muslim.

Some more short poems

1. On a neighborhood walk, little children are playing eye spy.

Eye spy with my little eye something beginning with G.

Garden?, the others guess. Girl? Gate? But I know the answer, it’s God

What do you reckon, Brother James?

We trust God, but there’s going to be some collataral damage

Ground control to Major Tom

Maybe you’re like YO YO, the great American celloist, be zealous in your passions, in the healing of music

I’ve got the sun in my eyes with Uncle Jack, killed in the battle of the Somme.

I’ve got a rare family cancer gene, but I’m going to take my chances.

what don’t kill you only makes you strong.

As my cousin’s wife is in hospital with brain cancer, in the season of corona…

A man with amazing boots is on the tram, as the tram sits by Eureka Street, full of peak hour gold diggers.

This morning a little boy is childhood’s hot air balloon, his mother says “sit down” but he’s rising up to the heavens

Diana

I’m the poet of Diana’a heart, and she’s proud of the man I’m becoming, even as I failed to do the windsor knot in my new tie today.

Diana is the divine light

A diamond formed under pressure

Heater man

I got on well with the heater man

When life cheats you, it’s good to shoot the shit with a blue collar saint like him.

He was born n Richmond.

He remembers the glory days before Australia sold out.

Isolation Anzac day

As the last post played I thought of myself as the last poet in the flickering candlelight by the letter box

Little lights all along the street

A man lit up a cigarette, I felt quite upset for all the ghosts in slouch hats.

A Melbourne poet

I said hello to the Melbourne poet, Peter Bukowski and his wife, as I did laps of the citizens park.

Is this the poet’s wheel of fortune turning?

Like an undertaker in his cap and coat burying the past. There was talk of Isabella’s funeral as she…