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Raindrops and Illustrious KenKeith Nunes
The rain has me trapped at floor level
There are drips on foreheads and
the mynah bird stares me down
I can feel blood moving from temple to lobe
Accusations stalk the furry one and
on the bed there is a memory
The beer is touching sides and weakening resolve
The TV programme yells at me through gritted teeth
On the table is a note from her I'll never read
I'm backing up on the cliff as seagulls tear at my
steroid-soaked left arm that has a tattoo of
a woman I’ve never met
One of the pigs is focused on pissing and
the feral possums creep across the lawn
headed toward the only bird’s nest left
I would cry but the little blonde woman
wants to trace my head on her black paper while
in the bin is a photographer waiting for someone to move
There's really no reason for me to stand here so
I step absent-mindedly toward oblivion curling
toes that belong to a man who slept with my mother
and in the cool to cold dawn Ken shoots straight
at the sun collapsing a metre short of an
unexpected gold medal and justified notoriety
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