Graham Nunn is a Brisbane based writer, co-founder of Small Change Press and a founding member of Brisbane’s longest running poetry event, SpeedPoets (www.speedpoets.org). He is the current QLD editor of Blue Dog: Australian Poetry Journal and is the Secretary of the Australian Haiku Society (www.haikuoz.org). He has published 4 collections of poetry. His latest collection, Ruined Man is now available from www.smallchangepress.com.au
among cheap thin-walled rooms
stuffed full of sweating fat men
trying to remember old dreams
the rain all afternoon all evening
its quiet rhythmic sound
before it grew too dark I watched
pigeons drink their own reflection
the room elongated the fourth wall
too distant or too dark to see
no moths at the window
only a swaying power line
raindrops dripping from it
one red spot fading on my thigh
where a flea from the mattress
shared my warmth my loneliness
and returned into the weave
This landscape folds in on itself. Everything that
moves – wind, dust, laughter – changes. Streets
soften. Sunlight plays across glass, but windows
appear blank unless viewed from within. Walls
begin to sweat & sour. We give it up & go.
You’ve put on your Marilyn perfume. Our old
letters have never smelled so sweet, our
memories seemed so true. I’ve plotted our escape
to the island – dawn light breaking in the window
salt breeze carrying the ocean’s secrets.
It’s past noon and the weather can’t hold. Take off
your silence and your coat. Let’s chance it – throw
ourselves to the season. There’s a cold that starts
in certainty. You see? There’s only one thing
left to do. Sweep you off your feet.
Here’s a necklace of water, of awe. A puzzle
that began the night your mother walked
along the shore and took the ocean by its lapels.
Empty your basket of black stones. When we
arrive, sunlight will follow, the waters will calm.