Men in Tracksuits


Another one from the vaults, reworked and updated. I have no idea what it means!


men in tracksuits tell you lies
their shadowy shades
reflect your eyes

fast talk street merchants
with brave moustaches
menace mentally into your life

immaculate misconceptions
werewolves dripping suspicion
space invaders with cell-stories
mingled whiffs of incarceration

theme intruders in your dreams
clumsy storm troopers
of the digital ages

never trust men in tracksuits
driving fast with vacant steel eyes
skimming the edges

bringing the bad boys into your life
bringing the bad boys into your life


La Donna Maria


Until about three years ago I had been living for twenty years in a small beach-side suburb not a million miles away from Bondi Beach.

This poem is an attempt to pay recognition to a wonderful woman who has been living there on the beachfront for far longer than me. Everyone is touched by her. Respect.


Enigmatic twinkling and stylish
Describable only in sound bites
She gives and receives respect
Throughout the sleepy village

Generous open-hearted and kind
Bearing pain with stoic bravery
Shares her patronage with all
Tells their futures in espresso

Defiantly on the Jarmusch diet
Air and cigarettes and coffee
Fragile and powerful at once
Links us all to a receding past


Punt Road Bus


This one I started in about 1980 when I was being a down and out unemployed actor in Melbourne. In my early thirties, the usual themes of urban alienation and confusion are apparent!


Sitting down the back of the bus
Peering through the glaring dust
Trying to get to feel and taste
What it’s like alone in the waste

Above the freeway.

Oh Collingwood
Where are your arteries?
Oh Collingwood
Where are your veins?
The demon’s armouries
Won’t free your chains

Walk along the street
Eat fast frozen meat
Join the lunchtime march

For an hour of illusion
Moomba confusion
Society’s delusion

I’m a taxi-truck aimed at your heart.

… and the Army’s on parade!