Kelly Poole



with its cockatoo splat like a box
of ice cream sizzling out of tune
with the asphalt, exhaust peels back air
the way hydrangeas coo ee softly
around curves, into pubs of ideas pissed
and grinning for all the 8 balls sunk
and the smell of pies like shooting blank felt
the hydrangea leaving with your tinder date
while the cockatoo rages about interpretations
the way pornographic moons split the day’s white dust
into the dead weight of the living, when
     if not ever      if not trying to be
the charming aristocrat before the rolling
invention of the guillotine





Kelly Poole grew up in the Western Suburbs of Sydney. His poems have so far appeared in the Marrickville Pause. He currently lives in Wollongong.