Hollywood wouldn’t last five minutes
if an actor said:
“Darling, we’re so wrong for each other.”
But my avant-garde emotions
never scripted good sense.
It’s all experiment and instinct,
fiercely independent of the studio system.
Logic never bankrolled my heart.
“Quiet on the set!”
Cue sound: English modern black soul-R’n’B hybrid.
Roll film and “Action!”
Man driving alone
through Taranaki sharp frosted glass night
trying to enter the dreams
of a woman who sleeps
somewhere in this city.
She has told him there’s no profit in pursuit,
but she might just as well
tell a dog not to have fleas.
He cannot stop
thinking about her.
POET'S NOTES: Apologies to the readers and my fellow Tuesday Poets for the late posting, but I've just returned from helping out with a week-long camp for the Christchurch Boys Choir in Nelson. The choir, of which my youngest son is a member, are a treble voice choir and they did several performances in Nelson all of which were exceptionally well received. They even scored a photo and article on page two of the Nelson Mail.
Also, it's school holidays. But here it is, better late than never. I hope you've already been enjoying the many wonderful poems posted by my fellow Tuesday Poets.