Acknowledgments
“i say no” published by The Freedom Review India / commended for Tom Collins Poetry Prize / Winner Goolwa Poetry Cup Australia
“where and when” published by Australian Poetry Journal “bar games (and survival)” published by The Freedom Review India / Winner Goolwa Poetry Cup Australia / adapted excerpt from poet’s stage play “Almost Face To Face” published by Australian Plays
i say no
my shabby room is mine for fifty bucks a week not far from the beach away from the main road the neighbours all seem cool indonesian lady-boy on the game next door asks me if i’m working from my room i say no the guys that come and go are for recreational fun though anything can happen when i’m broke old aussie surfer once well known on the other side of my room asks me if i surf i say no i used to i now do yoga and run and swim but i might pick up a board again the waves down there look awesome dutch painter upstairs functioning ok for an alcoholic asks me if i paint i say no i’m a writer and a wanderer though i used to dabble in oils he asks me if i drink i say no i use to heavily but only when i was painting handsome filipino guy two doors down asks me if i’m looking for a relationship i say no i have one of those somewhere else i’m into hook ups with nameless strangers and fun-buddies are ok too french ice addict covered in tatts across the path from me asks me if i’m wired when my lights are on all night i say no i’m straight and sober usually writing poems until dawn my drug of choice is strong black coffee i quit smoking weed in asia i like my shabby room and life with the international crowd all around who are friendly and fascinating and share some common interests and points of view the big green sea only five minutes away when i need to be alone and free and the handsome filipino isn’t only into relationships i discovered late last night when he dropped by my shabby room while the others nearby in their shabby rooms did whatever they do where and when i’m standing alone in a café no one is serving out the back dishes clatter someone coughs i wait check face book yawn ring a small brass bell with a tinny tinkle a guy appears stands on the other side of the counter facing me brown eyes strong hands jagged forehead scar i know him from sex once i think maybe twice i’m not sure where and when i order a long black he looks at me man on man gaze i smile we drift into whatever it was our hands touch as i pass him two coins he winks we fall into whatever it is i remember where and when bar games (and survival) he has a circle around him at one end of the bar i have one around me (where i stand) at the other end we're not a bad team (him and i) our circles have formed for different reasons his because they all want him (or have had him before) and mine because several of them recognized me from my poetry performance (outside the train station) earlier tonight my words were appreciated by most of them and here and now i’ve become a (minor) front bar celebrity and one shouldn’t ever look a gift-horse in the mouth and the gift-horse (happening) is free double vodkas (coming on strong) i start another story about performing in a theatre in brisbane (true) which drifts into a yarn about a kangaroo getting into the theatre that no-one could catch (not true) and they all lean in (fascinated) and me after ten (or more) drinks can tell a dam good yarn i’m getting restless here so i leave my audience wander down to him (and his lot) and ask him if he wants to stay with them or come upstairs and dance with me he wants to dance but has found some (well-heeled) trade so he nips into the disabled toilet with an excited old trick (on a walking frame) i get bought a couple of (top shelf) shots tell another (untrue) tale and line up a dude (for tomorrow) and when he's back we head upstairs and in an all-night club full of (all night) people we forget about bar games (and survival) and dance (until the sun comes up) Wolfpack Contributor: Stephen House 5 Poem Poetry Showcase from Stephen House
Fevers of the Mind 