Hi JJ 'An envelope leans against a door' sad was it covered in dust cheers P a weird kind of latency
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Jill Jones
Sent: 12 August 2015 08:49
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: JJ's cloud of unknowing snap
CLOUD OF UNKNOWING
Futures form in ignorance
in stray spaces, weeds progress like seasons
outside offices there�s more confusion just as within
there�s a light which offers no light.
It switches on and off, no-one lends a hand.
An envelope leans against a door
another hullabaloo has been ripped down
events pass and numbers out date themselves
the season closes down, the corridor seems furious.
There�s a new fire warden, someone�s updated
the security code, goodness, it seems to work.
�
You didn�t know what you now need
to know, there�s a weird kind of latency
after dark though there�s still all that stalking.
The photocopier seizes the paper.
The computer seizes the idea. The idea seizes.
There are no ideas, the paper is waste.
�
We come alongside ourselves without warning.
It�s scary, who are we? If you don�t know, go home.
�
Unknowing is better away from the stairs.
Don�t look down
you might get there �
________________________
Jill Jones www.jilljones.com.au
----- Original Message -----
From: "Poetryetc: poetry and poetics"
To:
Cc:
Sent:Wed, 12 Aug 2015 07:46:34 +1000
Subject:Mad Stuff
Stuff sneaks up on you, squats, settles, millstones.
Shifting stuff, trudgesome, fraught with unpredictability.
Madness cassette, worth �35 to some Pom I've never met.
INXS tape in a flip-top box wings its way to Belgium.
Shintaro in purple tunic, brandishing sword left-handedly,
on creased cardboard card starts an eBay bidding frenzy.
But do you reckon anybody'll take this comfy chair?
27 views on Gumtree but no takers. Nor for the old fridge
- still chills to the bone but who will travel, who heft?
Washing machine, top-loader, clarifies but will not entice.
Nor can a solid queen bed attract prone potentiality.
Anti-capitalism thrives. Stuff, once it hits house, moulders.
Only knick-knacks move. Hang on: a phone call -
Someone wants my analog TV - good for video games.
What's a fair price for televisual retrocity. How's free
sound? Sounds good, he says. Finally, some vacancies
opening up, carpet spaces clearing. A Chinese takes
a juicer and microwave for $100 and eyes off a water tank!
Stuff comes in as light as a breeze, assumes its place.
Asked politely to leave, it sulks, limpets, looms.
Stuff this stuff. Feel the stuffing knocked out of me.
At least redgum whittles down to comforting coals.
bw
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