Walking past this house the temptation is strong
A brick through the window, a boot in the door
This is white This is open This is fragile This is
Valued – auctioned last Saturday (the bidding was persistent)
This is someone else’s property
now
Someone else’s
Home This is closed to the streets with
No remembrance of past No
Remembrance of loyalties No haven
for the outcast I hope
Somebody
Scrawls graffiti on your walls in
Indelible black and
it lasts
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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.
