Poems by Mick Raubenheimer

Inhale.

The very air is swelling
as you coy approach
talented, naked you

 

White boy day.

Let us take this pale
infant already struggling
so with this trick called breath
faint heart bare training its rhythms
crumpled pink of
hands weakly clenching and un
clenching let us take this
weak mammal yes and wrap its weakness
in cities and vast machineries
and undulating technology
and thermo-regulated blankets

lest it learn to grow strong
and healthy
and hungry embrace
the hulking splendour
of this too-wild cosmos
Yes let’s.

 

Before all hell broke loose.

the rest of
geographed time was
a pretty
boring space..

 

Her potion.

It is not so much a scent as
a presence
a strangulation
which
satanically
abrupts
redirects
freshly tumescent blood

 

Beetle.

It traversed mysterious cascades of sky-blue
to reach you

Sat on your knee
fauning its coppery wings
Faintest clicker

 

And all around were these women…

These beings drawn in lazy lines of curve and bloom
who moved through space tugging mysteriously
at colour
and scent:
The gravity of beauty!

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