Jacket 22 - Pam Brown

Moments

every grief
can be traced
in the wind
shaking
the gingko trees
in the square.

this city
has a
regressive effect,
my handwriting
begins to resemble
art nouveau.

sometimes
in late afternoon
the only thing
that’s moving here
is time.

Weeds

it all
went west
with
the weather
&
the weeds
came
creeping
& slugs
& scribble
on all facades
on every street
tags forming
a tide line
as high as
a human reach
(these are
a few of my
favourite
signs).
sparrows
feathered-up
for autumn,
huddling
chilled,
& blackbirds
dropping in
for crumbs
on the terrace,
riding high
in april
shot down
in may
except
it’s october.
someone
is shaving
at the fountain
in the park,
his cardboard bed
is folded
and I can’t
coherently
reconcile
my free rent
to myself.

Lightbulbs

*
it’s how conscious
       feeling is
&
what you know

*
joe, nickname ‘joe’
     far niente,
sweet
      far niente

*
the way
       cancer
changes everyone
   into vegetarians
              or buddhists

*
in Rome
      a simple shed
is often
    monumental
                 (Stendhal)

*
in Mondello
   an abandoned
mafia holiday-home
development,
        skeletal grottoes
scar the hillside

*
haiku —

invited to drinks
   at the embassy.
better to be
    ‘out of town’

But wait — there’s more! ...from Pam Brown’s author notes page here on the Jacket site, you can link to a photo and a biographical note, and also to dozen or so Jacket pages where her work features or where she is reviewed or interviewed.

Pam Brown

Three poems

Moments

Weeds

Lightbulbs