Elly McDonald

Writer

Watching (1982)

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For someone who insisted she would

Not do anything she couldn’t admit to

 

midnight copper cockroach

crouched on asphalt pavement, inner

city face concave – erratic dark vermin

in the alleyway oblivion –

across an empty lot, strewn with rubble and tattooed

(the shadow-net cast by the meshed wire fence)

she scurries, feet scraping

alert: rapacious watcher

metallic and uncaring

 

She does know (or course)

It’s a dreadful thing to do

Author: Elly McDonald

Australian-born, with English mother, has lived in several Australian cities and in London. Travelled widely. Way way back when, published widely as a poet and short story writer. For the first 20 years of my working life I worked as an entertainment journalist, publicist, PR consultant and in advertising and media agencies. In the second 20 years, I worked in marketing roles at non-profit organisations then retrained as a teacher, primarily teaching English to non-English speaking, newly-arrived refugees. Also did miserable McJobs, and a long, happy stint at an art gallery.

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