Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Brenton Booth- Three Poems

WHEN THE CITY SLEEPS

Watching the walls cave in
after midnight;
the murder silent,
the way asleep,
the whole city invisible,
and nothing to worry about:
all the lights on in my apartment—
and anything now possible.


DIE TO LIVE

I’ll never write the great poem
or have the perfect blonde
or own a silver sports car
or live in a large house,
but those things don’t really
matter;
they are just the invisible
chains
handed down to us,
and people give up whole
lives
trying to achieve them—
not realising they are killing
themselves in the process,
I think in my small summer
apartment in Sydney at 11:10pm
on a Wednesday
a portable fan cooling the room
and two days off work,
which I know is not much:
But what is?


IN THE RAIN

Waiting
on
the
walls
to
collapse
&
the
tenor
cockroach
to
sing
Ava Maria
on
a
cloudy
Monday
night
in
Sydney—
the
fruit
bats
screaming
in
the
tree
by
my
window
&
rain
pounding
against
the
roof
on
this
cold
night,
that
was
meant
to
be
summer.


Bio: Brenton Booth is a writer living in Sydney, Australia.

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