Mark Young
One Thousand & One, Two Thousand & Two
I get strung out writing
didactic poems. They
swallow me up, & I never
seem able to achieve
resolution. The new year
is half-way over before I
realise it. By the time
I work out if the smoke
comes from fireworks or
bushfires the rainy season
has begun. The lightning
that punctuates it frightens
me, but I manage to calm
myself by counting the
number of seconds it takes
for the thunder to arrive.