Dandruff

Inspired by Kath Walker.

My predictable mood
that matches the suit
of the dRunKeN
silver and rejected sky

with knowing
ravenous claws of
the unfinished blossoming
Camellia tree, waving
and mocking
and dribbling hopeless
fuchsia petals to
the green carpet


towards the hopeful speck
of blackbirds
that gnaw and prod at the
dew-dotted ground
like persistent flecks
of dandruff
refusing to leave
where they belong
what they call home


Home, home,
the opposing sparrows chant
our home is not
where you will roam!
as I take a drag
from my f*g


a podgy sparrow snatches
a wealthy-of-juice worm
from a blackbird’s
beggar mouth




the Camellia drools again
and I would cry, too

but the day has only
just begun;            exhale.