Postcard from Woolloomooloo




Watch her stretch
Silhouetted against bright sunlight
Something so smooth on the radio
“I Thought About You” – Johnny Mercer

The time she crossed my event horizon
A bizarre singularity
She cried for days
While I removed the spells
In which she came enmeshed
Wanting nothing
But a break in the clouds
And to see her angel’s
Outstretched wings

The moment her hexes were dispelled –
Early morning watching old TV
And this salesman’s wife asks
If he plays up on the road…

“If some dame says she wants to vibrate on my team I tell her…”

“Ahhh – belle –
They just don’t write lines like that no more”.
And we both cracked up
And she was healed.

Is all the pain worth it?
The long nights of weeping
Obsessive meandering
Through dark inner landscapes?
I wouldn’t want to miss a second of it
Constantly on edge
As she redefines herself
Reinvents her life
And slips away
From me, and us
And what could be

The night she found Jimmy Yancey
And played the most devastating blue piano
Into the predawn
With me playing slide guitar
And spurring her on

And I watch her stretch
Like a contented cat
And she’s still chasing her tail
As I still chase her tale



10 Responses to “Postcard from Woolloomooloo”

  1. Outa sight, my brother!

  2. Reblogged this on Charlenesweets and commented:

    • Thanks JC – I really oughta fess up though. This poem condenses three or four events widely seperated in both space and time. But it wrote itself after I provided a faint wisp of memory.

      Anyway – what’s the point of having a Poetic Licence if you don’t utilise it huh?


      • With a Poetic License, the regular “rules of the road” do not apply. Past is present is future is here is there is when is now any how or why or way you want. I often feel that I should believe either everything that I read or not one sodding word of any of it. Anything in between is dangerous territory for the mind.
        As to this piece, I believe every word of it, as much as I can be said to believe anything at all anyway. The fact of the matter is that, in all truth, these disparate events came together in your mind and that is the event of which you speak and you speak it very well indeed.
        And now I shall shut my yap and shuffle off to bed…

        • That’s not just poetic licence though – it’s the way humans think. The conscious “groundrules” just don’t apply. We connect things that are close together in time , space or content – or if they’re far apart. In this case they all came with a similar emotional charge so the connections had no doubt been brewing for quite a while in the alembic i keep in the alchemical laboratory in the basement.

          Thanks again JC. Hope you slept well – and didn’t talk in your sleep – or if you did had the microphones working. If not – let me know and I’ll send you the take from the mic I’ve had cunningly placed about your person… 😉

          • This is right up the alley of poetics that I am currently exploring…
            Lots of lead for the process….

            • I’m stuck on free verse cut-ups.

              I’d send you my philospher’s Stone – but my nephew used it as a marble and gambled it away in the school yard…

              A bloke called Roberto Assagioli is good on the “alchemical” stuff… at least as it applies to consciousness (Psychosymthesis) – which can probably be found cheap as it’s pretty ancient – and he doesn’t call it alchemy. And of course Jung on “active imagination”.

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