dogs
can hear
shadows
cry
Parkstreet
Messing about in words by Kent Parkstreet Short sketches of stories and scenes, like a colouring in book, just the outlines. “People want to find a meaning in everything and everyone. That's the disease of our age . . . “ Pablo Picasso
The magpies are singing in the back streets of St. Kilda,
Charlie Parkering their joy.
Pandemic silence
Has freed them from
Our murmuring motors
From our impatient tunelessness.
The Magpies are singing in the back streets of St. Kilda,
Melody reigns.
Parkstreet
I’d decided
To go through
A shakuhachi phase,
Purchased a plastic
Rendition
Of the instrument.
In the same message
She told me
That the words
Plastic shakuhachi
Made her happy,
That her bum
Was getting chubby,
That everything
Was slipping away.
I told her,
When things
We’re slipping,
To call me,
To chant
Chubby bum, chubby bum, plastic shakuhachi
Chubby bum, chubby bum, plastic shakuhachi,
And I would come.
But she didn’t call,
And everything slipped away,
Slipped away,
Like
My shakuhachi
Phase.
Parkstreet
“Hello Captain Roy,
I wrote a poem about you,
Do you want to hear it?”
“No.”
“It goes like this:
Ahoy ahoy
Ahoy ahoy
It’s always a joy
With Captain Roy.”
“That was shit.”
“I thank you.”
Parkstreet