28 November 2015

To Be Freed


The idea’s to be freed of a rictus you’d probably 
see quite innocently induced; perhaps an effect 
of the study’s cooler air, or must we correct that
impression - actually a spare bedroom & where 
th’ broadband satellite connection’s at; anyway, 
to be creatively outside in a clear air & blue sky 
asks more of sangfroid you’ve yet to develop to 
compensate for problems with resolution of the 

pc screen - they’re issues you’re well aware of; 
and then there’s irreverent howling of airplanes 
flying low overhead, and the midges - not biting 
yet but won’t be far away; - and two crows who, 
believing y’ need encouragement, proffer ideas 
from nearby trees raucously dissenting in what, 

clearly their view, they consider matters most - 
& then occasional rooster statements made by 
sources ranging north & west of here, & who’re 
less offensive in their commentary; pleasant if it 
comes to that, not as incessant as that litany of 
macho-poetic cawing-with-intent corvus abuse

None-the-less we persist - & the stress lessens 
as we find pace is keyed to harmony - there’s a 
moment of clear realisation when Kookaburra’s 
calls flood in with momentary recitations saying 
aha, ahahahaha, ahaha, er yeah, gidday, catch 
y’ later, ok - as if knowing there’s no acrimony 

meant - that indeed we are compleat 
© 10 August 2015, I. D. Carswell