Excerpt
The Pottery Fish
The pottery fish sits on the windowsill
And smiles a fishy smile at pale blue waves
Which curl forever upwards on the tiles:
Red and blue toothbrushes face each other across its back
And wait…

The sun rises, moves across the sky, sets,
And rises again in never ending cycle,
While the pottery fish smiles at the surf upon the tiles
And the toothbrushes face each other across his back
And wait…

A door slams shut; the house suddenly fills with noise.
Taps spray noisily into the bath of frothy bubbles,
Children splash and play. “Don’t forget your teeth,” calls Grandma.
Small hands clutch the red and blue toothbrushes,
While

The pottery fish stares at the surf upon the tiles
And smiles.


Suburban Blues
Rush hour noise, then silence;
Not even the birds sing,
They sit in urban green
Above polluted streets.
Inside each house, like in its
Dissimilarity,
Domestic chores played out
On 'upman' gadgetry.
Day follows day; follows week,
Follows life,
Vite, vite, vite!
A plastic gnome existence,
On, upwards…
To nowhere!