The stock of the rifle is hand-selected walnut.
I polish it with a soft cloth and occasionally
use linseed oil.
I dust a porcelain lady
twice a week. She does not need my attention,
but I give it.
My Nikon needs to be taken out of its case,
otherwise it may turn into a
a blank memory.
At least once a fortnight.
I pick up a quartz crystal and sigh;
the sigh does not mean anything
unless you think ‘sighs’ mean anything.
When the black dog returns,
I drive out at night
with no aim or destination.
The 'dog'
(my camouflaged depression),
must be driven somewhere,
and left on the side of a highway.
These things I do are tramlines,
a navigability that gets me back
to a place where I can write
with no bull attached -
no one likes a fake sun.
These inconsequential acts
are rituals, observances that maintain
the safe-side of my mind
while words eat words
in the dark.
The stock of the rifle is hand-selected walnut.
I polish it with a soft cloth and occasionally
use linseed oil.
I dust a porcelain lady
twice a week. She does not need my attention,
but I give it.
My Nikon needs to be taken out of its case,
otherwise it may turn into a blind
coal-black memory.
I pick up a quartz crystal and sigh,
At least once a fortnight.
The sigh does not mean anything
unless you think ‘sighs’ mean anything.
When the black dog returns,
I drive out at night
with no aim or destination.
The 'dog' must be driven somewhere,
and left on the edge of a highway.
I go to the Oriental grocery emporium
each month to therapy-browse.
Sometimes I buy a paste or a sauce
not having a clue how to use them.
Cooking into the unknown
is my space travel.
These things I do are tramlines,
a navigability that gets me back
to a place where I can write a poem
with no black dogs attached -
no one likes a failing sun.
These things I do are rituals
for the safe-side of my mind.
~~
(‘Black-dog’ is a euphemism for depression).
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