Three Poems

 

Andrew Leggett

 

 

 

 

YOUR BROKEN GARDEN ROOM

for Michael Zavros

 

 

It’s in this room that the heavyweights work out,

the movers and shakers. I quake in this place 

where the gods commission heroes to compete

at discus, playing with the weapons grade plutonium

exchange on Wall Street. Champions of the nations

draw the order of their lots, then spin up to the plate

to hurl. Beyond each broken window of the cupola

lies a pleasant garden ruined by astral projectiles.

With views like these, why would any god rise

from a seat to take a turn to sweat on the bench,

pressing weights, when there is no need for

such exertion in a world teeming with fools

who not only wait to do their bidding, but rise

to demand weight be placed across their chests?

 

 

 

 

DESIDERIUM

 

 

Time, what have you done with my old friend,

the one who found me moping on the steps

of learning’s sandstone shrine? He brought me

to the cinema to watch Live Rust, with creatures’

red eyes radiant from voids beneath dark hoods.

When Neil Young’s voice brought sugar down

the mountain that we never climbed, we vowed

we wouldn’t shave. His image on the internet

testifies that blade has never touched his face.

We both grew beards to signal we were men

and must be brave. When I reach to reconnect,

my Facebook friend request remains unmet.

Has he forgotten the harmonica broke my soul,

such that I have never since ceased weeping?

 

 

 

 

COULD IT BE

 

 

Could it be that I still entertain the guilt

of that first bite of meat pie on Good Friday,

oblivious to the beast that died to feed me,

carcass linked to Christ as dripping on

the bread my mother took from time when

resale of her dolls in Grandpa’s store might

feed some dark desire or gain an interest

in an opal mine beyond the fence of stolen

goods or hanging on the butcher’s hook?

Could that sacrilegious bite have caused

the burn that seared my arm when it brought

that jug of boiling water down? Could I be

the one whose body must break when yeast

in her wholemeal loaf failed to give it rise?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Andrew Leggett is an Australian author and editor of poetry, fiction, interdisciplinary academic papers and songs.  His latest collection of poetry, Losing Touch, was published by Ginninderra Press in 2022.  He is an Adjunct Associate Professor with the James Cook University College of Medicine and Dentistry. 

 

 


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