lighting beacons upon the tops of silos sparrows fall like clods of dirt we update our blogs according to the contract and celebrate Christmas for cameras excluding guns and ammo you look beautiful tonight dumping bloated livestock into trenches the sun still wriggling in a radio sky always the threat of more children but we never ask how it came to this how some of us are immune to hanging we never admit to stabbing dolphins for music or to dining on the milk of weeds excluding guns and ammo you look beautiful tonight you don’t shake when the media comes can’t we talk about us as we flog the horses take a stab at life on the beach tree trunks humming like old transformers imagine spitting on the city wall or my chest remember how babies put dead moths to mouths the leg irons clean better with ash excluding guns and ammo you look beautiful tonight out there the shining bald opinions of men lighting the beacons ingesting grams of hunger the clods of dirt the tiny hearts
Nathan Curnow is a poet, playwright and past editor of Going Down Swinging. His work features in Best Australian Poems 2008 and 2010 (Black Inc.) and his latest book The Ghost Poetry Project (Puncher and Wattmann) is based upon his stays at ten haunted sites around the country. A recipient of two Australia Council grants, his recent prizes include the Josephine Ulrick Poetry Prize and the FAW Di Cranston Award.
© Nathan Curnow
Overland 204−spring 2011, p. 122
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