Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Thursday, October 23, 2014


Is it so that the intestines of cats
Strung the staunch wooden racquets
Of the ladies in starched dresses
So pleated and hard white?

Are the universes all kept like beetles
In a matchbox in the bottom drawer
Of a desk at which no-one sits,
Nor may ever have sat?

Writing a lengthy To Do list
Whilst idly stroking a cat
That grew the generic for any beast
That gave its guts for our glory,

One item is to consult the entrails
For the origins of all the species
That jostle and snore, frolic and claw
In the matchbox of your bottom drawer.

- Larry Buttrose

Saturday, October 18, 2014