Peter Yowie Poetry
Bowie came to me in a dream, when the icecream moon was outside my window. Low tide in the morning on my unmade bed. A soup can leviathan at the bottom of my heart. Bowie told me I owed it to the kids to keep the dream alive. At the edge of the city was the three chord hitch hiker. We sung our way across America. Bowie told me you reap what you sow. He’s glowing in heaven.
On a journey to Queensland in the symbolic journeys spiritual shop I opened a book to read, poets are damned but they’re not blind, they see with the eyes of angels. I never called myself a Christian yet I believe in the power of the lord, when I stopped handing every spare dollar to the homeless, when I embraced the devilish nature of myself, when I got more insight from the autistic mystic than I ever did from church ,that’s when I knew I was in the matrix, a Madonna magazine writer who also says outrageous things about Madonna
