Yes, I agree - it works better this way.
Andrew
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On 30 November 2017 at 09:28, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Thanks again, Doug.
> Bill
>
> On Thu, 30 Nov 2017 at 10:03 am, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
>
> > Yeh, Mind the gaps, Bill.
> >
> > This is interesting in how it shows memory/mind working to remember, as
> > there’s more here than in the first, as you ee it ever more whole, that
> day
> > or time.
> > I think it works better his way…
> >
> > Doug
> >
> > > On Nov 29, 2017, at 1:35 PM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]>
> > wrote:
> > >
> > > Whoops, those gaps should not be there in new stanzas one and three.
> > >
> > > Bill
> > >
> > > On Thu, 30 Nov 2017 at 7:32 AM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]
> >
> > > wrote:
> > >
> > >> Thanks, Sheila. Yes, I didn't know it but everything led to the rifle
> > and
> > >> I just knew that was the end of the reverie. Andrew, Thinking again, I
> > will
> > >> leave out creation of narrative. I know you have written prose poems
> > like
> > >> 'The next poem' and your Linfen poems. They are more 'block' poems.
> > Maybe I
> > >> can aerate mine differently as a prose
> > <https://maps.google.com/?q=rently+as+a+prose&entry=gmail&source=g>
> poem,
> > Doug.
> > >>
> > >> Bakewell Street 2
> > >>
> > >> On the corner of Thunder Street, Bendigo, a twisted wire front fence,
> > >> groany gate,
> > >> springy Buffalo-grassed front lawn. Echo-less sound of tin-lid postbox
> > >> screeching open, plopping flat shut after letter removal. Slight give
> of
> > >> worn boards on front porch with first footfall from top brick step.
> Iron
> > >> rungs reaching from concrete piers. Grandma Beat's place. Mum's Mum.
> > >>
> > >> After lunch, go outside and play. Brother Dan and I jumping from one
> > post
> > >> to the other. Making up games with rules and consequences. Don't be
> > >> caught on the exposed veranda when a rare passing car aligns with you.
> > >> Home pillars the only safe zones. Running the bee gauntlet up lavender
> > >> path beneath wind-rattling wooden lattice.
> > >>
> > >> Thin water-stained plywood walls bulging. High plate shelf on wall.
> > Framed
> > >> photos;
> > >> young Mum’s colourised rosy cheeks. Aunt Hazel in sepia WAAF uniform.
> > >> Hovering inside in heat. Gal roof stretching, popping in sun. Unused
> > front
> > >> lounge room. Grandma hulked in winter knitting-by-woodstove position.
> > >> Pantry/scullery, cutlery dead-clanking on sink, muted by flour bins,
> > >> Brockhoff biscuit tins. Sour fumes from Uncle Rex's Abbots Lager
> > 'soldier',
> > >> fresh from fridge, opened by feigned accident. Grandma's wink as she
> > passes
> > >> the open bottle over the fence to grateful Mr Hennerbury next door.
> > >> Warm-valved tone of walnut veneer radio through riffling curtained
> > speaker.
> > >> Spring-loaded back door's ping/clunk.
> > >>
> > >> Stretched stiff wire backyard prop clothesline. Sheets billowing high
> > >> over Mr Kinsmore's backyard caravan. Disused chookshed with dry,
> > >> ignitable overhanging potato vine. Long rusty tin shed, once stables,
> > >> powdery dirt floor. Stacked, spidersome cardboard suitcases. Finding
> > >> gold-tipped Black Sobranies. Flat match scrape, coughing.
> > >>
> > >> Full length dark brown leather coat hanging behind external laundry
> > door.
> > >> Framed, faded portrait of flowing-cloaked de Valera, hanging skewiff.
> > Bait
> > >> yabbies corralled in laundry trough overnight, crawling in wet hessian
> > bags
> > >> filled with pungent gum leaves. Fishing nets, hooks, corks, spread on
> > back
> > >> lawn, in readiness for pre-dawn getaway to Axe Creek.
> > >>
> > >> Groping in darkness, through hanging dresses, for hiding place of tiny
> > >> glass jar full of fossicked gold specks in the back of sleep-out
> > wardrobe.
> > >> Grandpa's rifle.
> > >>
> > >> bw
> > >> 30.11.17
> > >>
> > >> Bill
> > >>
> > >>
> > >> On Thu, 30 Nov 2017 at 7:11 AM, Sheila Murphy <
> [log in to unmask]>
> > >> wrote:
> > >>
> > >>> Bill,
> > >>>
> > >>> This is very impressive. One thing that I noticed that bespeaks the
> > >>> miracle
> > >>> of poetry is the arrival at a rifle as the inverse of the rifle's own
> > >>> function. Very chic. You cannot force such things. They are poetry.
> > >>>
> > >>> Bravo! Sheila
> > >>>
> > >>
> >
> > Douglas Barbour
> > [log in to unmask]
> > https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
> >
> > Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations
> > 2 (UofAPress).
> > Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
> > Listen. If (UofAPress):
> >
> >
> >
> > would you
> >
> > care to be more
> > precise about whatever
> > it is you are
> > saying, I said
> >
> > Bill Manhire
> >
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
Books available through Walleah Press
http://walleahpress.com.au
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