Ern Malley Jr. : Mercurial, Mirabell… Anopheles: Culture-shift

By | 26 November 2005

YOU CANNOT
CANNOT BE
BE SERIOUS, I called
to Anopheles, courtside at Burswood,
you cannot be serious in leaving me
discordant as gene-sheers,
idle at dark tables;
I bespoke a cenotaph,
I digested cultures
with scroll and hoof,
aloof the single photon,
chamber-pot in the settler house
cracked like Chernobyl
or Three Mile Island, ALAS,
I am deserted, I vote
wren to car, car to caravan,
driven by my loaded twankydillo,
not much change and not much light,
not much myth of instigation
or invented faithfulness…
I have found a home on the perimeters
of Lucas Heights: a medicine ball
scrotum blossoming, a stringing
up of hotness and mosquitoes,
incendiary in the dry reductions
of Culture as Exhibit… Town Council's
forsaken hope, described as thus,
Anopheles… your gusset-work,
your floor of Heav'n commissioned
as ark on redolent patines ?? steamy room plush,
an eloquent twister strip..
OH NAUGHTY NATURE ?´s teat-grip,
positron emission best kept
tomography, perambulating
hand of nomad's glans,
in-exactitude of longing wraiths,
loin cloths, and rent-a-cops.

Ern is of the park, and occasionally further afield. He channels, divines, and is pretty much an open book. He is losing his ambitions.

 


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