The Poems

Testing Pattern

From the Christmas, 2005, issue 

(No. 15)

a bus jumps out of nowhere and

runs over my daughter

I wake up

snap on the TV

students have pushed over

the prime minister have set him

on fire

my bedroom is a shouting mouth

my bed a gigantic tongue

my parents climb in beside me

and my children and my children’s children

put on a show

my son the prime minister

forbids me to

jump in front of the bus

these are the things I will give you

I plead

two sizes of regret and a blowtorch

the tiny beating wings of an anteater

the heart of a shovel

a can of fried lemons

some guilt that’s had

better days

this is a touching moment in the life of the family

my son says

we need dental floss

irony is a test pattern in his eyes

I am hoping the broadcast day will begin soon

even if it’s only

Yoga with Kim

my bedroom begins to snicker

then to yodel

my parents my children and my children’s children

are propelled into space

just another family


as they speed past the stars