What Would They Know


[Recent poem. Seems to be about ageing, dying, with Job and Jonah helping out. Took the shot in Wollongong a while back.]

What Would They Know

I am the forceps
that forced out my head

I am the gaping hole without teeth
dying by myself in a small room
filled with scent & rainforest musak

I am Jonah inside Leviathan.
I forget things. It is dark in here,
can’t find that switch

I am the hordes of family dead
milling around my dreams,
cigarettes stuck to their lips,
mumbling nothing, shifting
like grey clouds waiting for a train

I am Job looking up blinded
by absolute absence

Once upon a time a yellow fish,
one of three hundred fingerlings
poured into a farm dam as a gift
then devoured by cormorant gullets,
died of loneliness

Let me sing the yellow fish,
suggested Jonah

But why does the cuckoo
only sing at night?

Let me sing the cuckoo,
pleaded Job

They say if you let go
you will be alright

It will just be yourself
looking into yourself
as into the centre
of the sun, they say

What would they know,
Job & Jonah smiled

what would they know


~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on May 12, 2016.

2 Responses to “What Would They Know”

  1. what does anyone know…

  2. Indeed, Kristi, indeed. Greetings, Peter

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