Fracturing (June)

An object is unseen at the threshold of the cluttered June hallway by the unsuspecting left great toe with instantly major displacement of the entire bilateral bodily equilibrium through agonised forward freefall and forced folding over. The road is meandering through Plenty to Eltham Medical Centre where the daytime doctor with framed certificates and smile gives possible scenarios with definite expressed prospect of soon a revelatory X-ray. A fracture is present through the base of the distal phalanx on the dorsal aspect with minor displacement with a possible further small fracture through the proximal lateral corner of the proximal phalanx.

Nothing (June)

Innocents are relegated to tropical islands and tortured by a government that does nothing. The entire east coast is worn down by storms but climate change, nothing. All of June nebulous promises full of next to nothing. Health is threatened but they’re saying nothing. Policy launches stare into cameras that make happen nothing. Polls indicate there is nothing in it, nothing. It’s a waste to leave your ballot blank nothing. Journalists ask nothing questions and get in reply nothing. More cuts are expected because there’s nothing. The Muslims are coming and CCTV detects too much of nothing. Neighbours say nothing.

Dividing (June)

Give enough people the opportunity to say how much they dislike foreigners and they will say how much. The temptation is too great. Give them privilege to express displeasure at papistical ways and they will express displeasure. Violently, if necessary. Give enough people the power to hide on their side of the fence and you can stay on your side of the fence. Give enough people the excuse to deny their neighbour’s existence and they will deny. Old allies turn enemies and plot amongst themselves. Let enough people vote in June and eftsoon they’ll grumble about the winter of discontent.

Proving (June)

The present Prime Minister is not the first to be told since childhood he will be Prime Minister. He’s had something to prove and may never prove it in a party at odds with many of his beliefs. Proving is more than attacking and winning, as his hapless predecessor proved. In other news this June, an American tycoon would be President. Does he want to be President? Or just trying to prove something? He’s wellnigh unprecedented, a non-politician President. He is proving a trial to a party that doesn’t want him, as he would prove a childish dud if elected.

Detaching (June)

 Windy rain against black walls. Great plane brown paper cut-outs fall with a twist. I am this huddled train commuter of June thoughts, breaking free from bad politics, I wish. Merri flood catches undertow branches. One Van Gogh leaf still hanging onto the plum tree. Cards of oak leaves wave up and deal themselves into obscurity. I go with workplace blues and domestic tests. Darebin flood raises leaf rafts, submerges them. Mush of red maple stars interlocks beneath incessant water. I seek detachment by not forcing detachment. Wet strips of gum leaves broken in storms print the home footpaths brown.

Drowning (June)

We are drowning in the arrogance of a radio announcer, drowning in the stupidity of football celebrity. Turbulence he creates is difficult to negotiate. Do we swim against it or go with the flow? We come up for breath, the commonsense of decency, such pure life, only to drop back into choppy banter again. We are drowning in June weather talkback, drowning in power that laughs egotism. Commonsense says swim to shore, get out! The rip will change, calm will return, but in midst of powerlessness, threat of death, we lunge against blind swirl of broadsides, pushing our heads under.

Detecting (June)

Are the British the most murderous nation on Earth? Weekends we resolve week’s problems watching stylised dispatch. Or the world’s best detectives? Rebus clicks, Barnaby busts, Marple micro-manages, Taggart targets, Morse decodes, Foyle foils. Or the world’s greatest admirers? Amazed but perplexed by serial circumstances where everyone but the detective and vicar have motives, we like the vicar but admire the detective who proves that the poisoned body found in the mill stream was caused not by the sultry lover or the intolerable woman at the manor, nor her nurse June neither, but the innocuous pharmacist in the High Street.

Rolling (June)

Reeling from Orlando. News then rolling coverage. So many bodies. So many names released. How to respond to repeateds? Gays feel the direction. Been here before. World landmarks light up rainbow. There’s denial of rainbow. Facebook asks for prayers. Atheists mock imaginary friend prayer. Been here before. The families, what to think. Trump says something dumb. Obama stays cool, places terror. Orlando’s about guns. More guns, less guns. Ban assault weapons. Then there’s him, said he’s Isis. He wasn’t with Isis. Endless rolling week in June. Was he gay? His wife an accessory? Wounds break open. Everyone has an opinion.     

Reflecting (June)

Reflecting on blinded windows of daybreak houses, the grey cloud. On peakhour windscreens, leafless branches and de-lit streetlamps. On lemonade bottles in a gutter, wraparound cityscapes. On shattered looking-glass, atmospheric fragments. On glass disc of wristwatch, the gaze that comes to this. On empty Docklands box features, something going down the sky to Tullamarine. On the rear-vision mirror, a herd of taxi bullies. On mid-morning Yarra River, inward-looking towers. On the depressed iphone, striations of June sunlight. On atrium dome, dusted shoppers going for coffee. On office computers, screen-saving black holes. Reflecting on a Tuesday puddle, Saturday’s almost forgotten downpours.

Eye-rolling (June)

‘God is Love,’ declares a blogger. ‘Eye-roll,’ responds an atheist troll. Eye-rolling is a common trait across the broad church of online atheists. Short-hand for ‘Not more of this!’, ‘I know better than to respond with logic’, ‘I’m right, you’re wrong’, ‘What relevance are Bronze Age words to me?’ Eye-rollers haven’t lost their marbles. Theists (opposite of atheists?), on the other hand, are not habitual eye-rollers; eye-rolling is all head stuff. Atheist or not, happy are they who attend to June, or Monday, or lunch, or baby and me. Blessed blogger: ‘Open the soul to other possibilities’. Droll troll: ‘Eye-roll’.

Deceiving (June)

Parties are deceiving, might change their mind after the election. Their fiscal black hole is a divot compared to the crater of the other mob. Hazy ethics unbalance promises of security. Leaders are deceiving, one eye looking for cameras. They stray not from slogan scripts, practise being real. Papers are deceiving, minor scandal front page, major scandal in editorial. Their appearance assures readers of an Edwardian June climate. They’re credible propaganda, the owners’ plaything. Voters are undeceiving, daily with a mortgage and conditions of wellness. They’ll go with the lesser of two liars, with the crowd that looks more capable.