Les Wicks has toured widely and seen publication in well over 200 different magazines, anthologies & newspapers across 15 countries in 9 languages. His eighth, most recent book of poetry is The Ambrosiacs (Island, 2009).
Why do parrots get the good lines?
It’s like their call is frozen in pollen,
a stamp, or signet ring pressed onto the board wax
of each undecided clay.
Taught the bird to say
Shut up stupid & with a millet stick
she conducts the afternoon. Orderly regress
to a new woman’s denim;
tiny parade with feelings peeling
from the wood frame. Jazz polyester.
We promenade beneath nurses, slapstick
lords of prayer, howl & swashbuckle.
I can explain the secrets of plastic sheets.
Fresh Weeks. The crash of our appetites,
search for a key with
our tight apertures.
The regular crew’s on shore leave
selling their dignity while
the Bee Gees mutter from the flat below. They
have defeated the lawn so we
set sail from Port Plenty to the Bay of Dust, our
small integrities for a bucket.