Philip Hammial


Bad Luck

Bad luck, another psych disaster: You failed more stillness.
Obviously these fools made light of my plea: A breast
revealed a lady, what to do? How was I to know
that the grave pieces I carried everywhere
would be brought to bear? Would
bring it on – a beating by the bold that agonize both legs
at party, my crime: kissing & saliva, not aware
of the just-legislated Gag Law: Thou shall not
undress any him or her with unjust noise. A bit
unreasonable in my opinion. Loons ARE
entitled to a free! But all is not dark: having found
what I presume is the Ethiopian Emperor’s toothbrush
it should fetch a handsome price in Hong Kong, hard cash
to brighten my day. TO ALWAYS BEST A LIFE
that’s my motto. No matter the plunder, the blowback
of January belief that’s not the same as July’s, a sham
utterance, a leaning to keep a title, a wedding march
abstained from, etc. Which is to say: I care
conversion beauty. So stick Thy blown! So
selfish accomplished that all at your table
must fear speak. Not me. I speak not maligned, i.e.,
I’ll respond to any freak lay you put my way, which, of
lesser intellect, will leave me greatly confusing
about much, but so what – a risk to take &, why not, make
a merry with, hot death for a shame love maybe. Measured
in violation scratch, the longer the better
for a quality listen with added bonus of
if I get it right all brother back down, all word
to the contrary not long listened to, phone
off hook. Having installed this animal
I’ve got to feed it, huntsmen sent forth, bring back
alive, my kitchen in order, etc. My new cook
as gorgeous as they get but she’s got a derringer
in her stocking. Shank’s mare in my keeping, how
did that happen? Is my bejesus coming? – a standing-
still wheel? Or a wheel spun off, out
of control? It’s at this point
that the men & women waiting backstage strip off
& begin to crawl through mud to a river’s bank, the
Ucayali, but no matter how desperately they plead
the steamboat won’t stop, Fitzcarraldo at the helm as played
by Klaus Kinski. Which pretty well sums it up.
The only thing left to do is to decide which image, as per
the above, would best represent my happiness, my choice:
Haile’s toothbrush.



The Dandification of Noah Botts

I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you
that chattel is yours
to have & to hold, preferably up there
on Piddlers Hill. Otherwise: slam
& gully! Whose god is responsible
for this hit/fall? The petrol dolla won’t save our ass one.
Good, I’m relieved to know that the lachrymatories
are in your pocket (read interest) not mine: sub species
catshy on the march again, purpose of which
is to confirm that ecstasy from an oily rag
is the best ecstasy ever. Take it from me, or not, your
choice. What I am guilty of is that wee pubis nunca scam,
not that big gaaargh one, the supernumerary of the latter, Ms
Salsa Moves a shoo-in for the maître-de-bif. He won’t
be in today, caught red-handed slavering over
a jabbering toddler – Mother takes her spying seriously.
So does Dad, his taste for ratting on elevator music holdouts
honed to perfection: roll up your sleeves, boys, & do them
one at a time, slowly, to a water sport beat. Me, I’m
on a retreat, that hoi-polloi racket on my nerves again, calm
down with a spate of (soft) association knocks
up side some head (not mine). What did Guru
Hootenanny say? – ‘Bout time
you simpled. Quiz: how do portmanteau stick? With
licks, stupid; obviously you haven’t simpled
enough. Four moons more maybe. On the meme team
would help immensely, too bad your schlock-toed.
Another rime? Why not? – Goad. Go ahead, goad
those beasts aboard. This ship sets sail
at fourteen hundred sharp.




Philip Hammial has had twenty-nine collections of poetry published. His poems have appeared in twenty-six poetry anthologies (in five countries) and in 120 journals in fourteen countries, and he has represented Australia at twelve international poetry festivals.
 
 
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