Michael Ondaatje
Bearhug
Griffin calls to come and kiss him goodnight I yell ok. Finish something I’m doing, Then something else, walk slowly round The corner to my son’s room. He is standing arms outstretched Waiting for
Elizabeth
Catch, my Uncle Jack said And oh I caught this huge apple Red as Mrs Kelly’s bum. It’s red as Mrs Kelly’s bum, I said And Daddy roared And swung me on his stomach
Notes For The Legend Of Salad Woman
Since my wife was born She must have eaten The equivalent of two-thirds Of the original garden of Eden. Not the dripping lush fruit Or the meat in the ribs of animals But the
To A Sad Daughter
All night long the hockey pictures Gaze down at you Sleeping in your tracksuit. Belligerent goalies are your ideal. Threats of being traded Cuts and wounds all this pleases you. O my god! you
(Inner Tube)
On the warm July river Head back Upside down river For a roof Slowly paddling Towards an estuary between trees There’s a dog Learning to swim near me Friends on shore My head Dips
The Cinnamon Peeler
If I were a cinnamon peeler I would ride your bed And leave the yellow bark dust On your pillow. Your breasts and shoulders would reek You could never walk through markets Without the
The Time Around Scars
A girl whom I’ve not spoken to Or shared coffee with for several years Writes of an old scar. On her wrist it sleeps, smooth and white, The size of a leech. I gave
Speaking To You (From Rock Bottom)
Speaking to you This hour These days when I have lost the feather of poetry And the rains Of separation Surround us tock Tock like Go tablets Everyone has learned To move carefully ‘Dancing’