where’s my donkey     :     thursday evening
catch the train,

           seagulls circling

                   Central Station
catch a bus

         pick up a paint chart,
at the gallery –

        Korea and Kinglake

                   photography exhibitions
             (different)
a very thin man

   in Oxford Street

              in red leather pants
talk on Eastside Radio

             read two poems
at the bus stop

          long haired boys –

regenerate fashion,

        retro,

fashions

      arrive & go by

          really quickly –

I had to live through

               the entire decades!
          (peeved)
catch a bus,

          redhead woman driver

   playing jazz piano cd

                   loudly, in the bus

          (suits the traffic)
catch the train,

     seagulls gone to Pyrmont,

night workers

       eating chocolates & chips
              (hunger)
walk to the seafood shop

         buy the dory, grilled
                 walk home
                         *
I am the donkey    :    saturday afternoon
step onto the crossing,

             lift palm to car,

      thanks driver.

quicken pace, cross smartly,

think

       ‘why do I do that

        why do I want to live

        am I depressed?’
Scottish sentimentality –

        car alarm with violin
              (answer)
                         *
I pass the donkey    :    tuesday morning
walk to the bus stop

          (forgot my watch & silver ring)

     open umbrella,

           light rain shower
catch the sad bus

        through the streets

                around

          sad blocks of flats
 paint swatches

     (I must remember)
what colour the door?

   the brick fence, what colour?
coffee at Zoo,

         hair colour in the arcade

             (regrowth)
buy underwear,

       blue, mauve,

             & stripey
buy preserving jar

             (lemons)
buy

       honey, celtic sea salt

                     & iodised sea salt
carrot & celery juice,

the juice maker

                      takes ages

          to juice the vegetables
almost miss the bus
quickly buy the newspaper,

              here’s the bus
winding back

        past Centennial Park
there’s the donkey,

             no, it’s a horse
         (mistaken)
here are the streets

        around

   the sad flats

                 & here’s

the Cauliflower Hotel
listen to Patti Smith ‘Twelve’

   (Changing of the Guards!)

         on an ipod

                       on the bus
on the move

          but in the clouds
         (worldless)
thought stuck,

              pinned down
stupid under

            a roaring sky
            	      *
there is no donkey  :  friday night
hazard lights

    in the bus lane
police

       remove the number plate,

the driver

        brays drunkenly

                (caught)
going home

     to make a poem

(this one)

       to give my problems

 to you, reader
           (contagion)
everything fails

            when all else fails,

                                when all else

                 skyrockets
some of what I think

             is a piece of crap

 some of what I know

                          is worse
some things I say

             shouldn’t be said
my heart,

        meaning

  my feelings towards you,

                        reader,

meaning

      my straight ahead empathy,

             though

     is

          in the right place
nearly home,

      the streets seem dark
enter the house,

                 hug you,

my synthetic coat

                          squeaks