YES IT TESTED ME

tastelessly in a trial letting the
legs fall off the wheelchair in a
(keep up! for christ's sake!) race

for reanimation, where there it
bounced inside my paradise an
unholy seed of intention meant to

replace my restless root. still it
was only a lure of another flypaper
funeral misread that held more

wayward releases and wild armed
waves goodbye than a bowling alley
carnival spelt with the wobbling pins

and needles of a clumsy acupuncturist.
funny but it all appears so horseless
carriage long ago before my self slid too

heavy to boomerang back and easily
goal kicked so hard in the expectation
that it still makes my insides ache.

THE VINTAGE UNTOUCHED

Oh dear. The damage darling.
Well, you might as well have
handed a baby a butcher's knife.

So giggly shiny bloodsoaked
date raped at a dinner party
by lively little murders

blended with tender words.
Falling from that tremulous
skydance mask dropping plane

crashing into the splash down
deep only to unearth further
fish parading around all see

through toothed behind bright
dangled lights as bait before
the edge broke my surface.

AFTER THE FACT

All those precious secrets
in that closet in that pocket
in the back of that head.

Not so long ago I was in
need of a sign but I have
stripped all surplus pain

of attention so now it only
shrieks if I glance that way
with my sunbuttoned eyes.

There was a time when
sweetheart need only
wink and lick my finger

but she helped me turn
a page that was impossible
for me to turn on my own.

But I've been wrong before.
Tell me what you saw and
I will tell you what I think.

Lindsay McLeod is an Aussie that started this writing thing late, to quieten the voices in his head. His stuff has been splashed around the Net for a few years now, easy enough to find if you look. He drives a forklift to feed the dog and support his poetry habit.