My Facebook status says: Stilgherrian is considering. All things considered. Suggest three.
My friend Matt says: Three huh? Pop Rocks; Hopscotch and a Stopwatch.
He’s pretty clever, I think. Now, whatever happened to Pop Rocks?
Saturday Night at The Duke
It’s 8am, a crisp winter morning. 11C outside. I drag a battered flannelette shirt over my t-shirt — a shirt that’s now 12 years old, I remember.
I bought it at Gowings when I first came to Sydney, and it’s still wearable, more or less. Where will I buy everyday clothes now that Gowings is gone?
The shirt smells of smoke. Why is that?
It’s not the acrid stench of cigarette smoke, but the dusty odour of burnt wood. Eucalyptus. A bushfire? Ah, no, I remember now. Sitting by the open fireplace at The Duke Hotel… red wine… the memories flood back as the coffee kicks in…
Spammer’s Ode #1
While clearing out the spammers’ attempts to post comments to this website today, I was struck by the rather attractive rhythm they formed — if “attractive” is the right word. Here, then, is the first poetry I’ve written in more than 20 years, entitled…