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Month: May 2025

New York doll

A smiling clown’s face is shining in the sky and I drink my coffee among pot bellied poets and pigs that fly. There’s a chalk outline around my dream of New York. I listen to the small talk. True love waits for me A New York doll who yells at the traffic, goes left if you say go right. She fell in love with this poet whose heart is a paperweight on an unpublished manuscript. Raindrops in the puddles, kissing and cuddling in the mad huddle. I found out you can take the girl out of New York but you can’t take New York out of the girl, whether she’s putting on her make-up or ordering takeaway, she’s a Cinderella in stilettos. New York in the winter is the big apple the snow white country took a bite out of. New York is not America said David Bowie once At night I shed my clothes, full of deciduous desire, moonlight bride shines through the windows ,sometimes with my poetry I feel like that boy selling frozen lemonade in a truck in New York in the summer who says this job fucking sucks.

A quiet night. The starlight poets are at work with a mixture of burning words the emit light. Poets and ghosts haunt the night. I drank beer until bed and the woke and stared at the walls. The words crawled from my pen to this paper. The world ends. Brittle happiness and the little moments when I held your hand are gone. I am alone. I have always been alone. The poem says so.

My friend works as a barmaid and is studying to be a teacher, and drives a valient and rides a motorbike. She knows all about women in rock, my bandbuddy. She suffered sexual abuse and still gets sexual harassment. Now I’m hearing Lady Gagas song, it ends and the rain rings out on a tin roof. A songwriter in the wilderness, a deer in the headlights. I have followed these divas, and tried to find reasons. There’s a song for all seasons.

I ended it with a New York doll because I’m creative, what Stefanie, you think I’m going to lick the confetti from off the floor

I’m through with the lady, she can play for 2.5 million people she can’t even play for one sorry customer.

A hellish tram ride

People were yelling, one man was barely standing and looked like he was about to drop dead. It was like the tram was riding to hell and I just wanted to get off, only this wasn’t hell this was Melbourne. People seemed like zombies, some had just finished shopping. A lady with dolls, wearing voodoo mascara was playing at happy families, I looked in the pram at her lifeless baby.