Kangaroo and Goose is an ongoing reflexive creative process. Illustration follows text - a new cycle every week. 

He can never stay long


Futureman was back again today.

He had been behind the colours

      Picking over wavelengths for chromatic leftovers

      Until one of his emergencies.

He was here for cubes this time

      Said it was urgent, the cubes kept the plane from decongealing.

      Apparently they’re unstable now,

      Can’t keep their corners anymore,

      Though some of the rhomboids hold up ok.

I wrapped a few in cellophane

      Dice, whiskey stones, building blocks

Made the incantation

      While he held his third hand’s fingers to his eye

      And took them within himself,

      With a sound like feathers popping.

Floated out through the lounge room window, saying how

He’d explain more next time

Like usual.




Blades of Grass

Eyes Abandoned Also (The blades of grass)

Vital spies, locked furrows
Long absent from Eden greens
Since the start (the end of the end)
The wages / the labour of
The sun / the moon
Corruscate the greens and palaces
(the prizes, the gifts)
Shifting signals of the eyes
(strange looks)
(eyes abandoned also)
The finger / the thumb
The blades
Of grass


Two Moons 

Two true facts – that two moons in the true sky fly low; that low flying moons spark electric fleck death on the limbs of assassins and their syncronous breaths.

Too true and that’s the reason for the cat’s paw cries of the dignified miser, sizing up fields for highrise apartments. Visit my escarpment, I’ll scrape away the bleed of days and seed clay with compartments, just – keep the scrapings, the tapings of secrets from the weekend confessional, they’re nothing special though you play them through cassette tape recessionals listening for beatitudes, two moons spooling on electric fleck latitudes.

Old Claws

Beneath the Waves

Beneath the waves: the ocean

                Sked malice and rock sheen

                Neon eyes strobing

                Full bloom of red moon

Beneath the waves: the water

                Scuttlefish parrotjaw

                Reticulated conduits

                They don’t all hide

Beneath the waves: the deep

                They don’t all hide

                Those that hide see colours

                Needle segments

Beneath the waves: the current

                Molten seeking scrabble

                Always give way

                Be thick like rock

Beneath the waves: the waves

                Beneath the waves the waves.

                Frightening pollens; old spores

                Old claws, old jaws.

Uneasy with the Stars



you were always uneasy with the stars

frightful gurnings of a fickle night

their more than mortal mischief.

the sky is out to get you, kid

something in your scuttle

attracts the grame of lights and figments -

long hands / long nails

reaching down from clouds

felt but undiscovered

hollow eyes follow through the dark

their points and lines fixed upon you.

you're going to get your undues. 


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