Tuesday Poem - Two Short Poems by Luke Beesley

Peacock peacock

In Tagore's last poems he imagines words popped of

    meaning

loose, in the sky, nonsense syllables, pure colour

At the post office I watch a man for an hour

sew my parcels with a large needle

a purple full stop on his thumb

I never saw the Taj Mahal.

             I write I never saw the Taj Mahal

             but write 'sew' instead of 'saw'

             I never sew

Short story

His ear lit up like a daffodil

He found four bees in his car

It was a leap year. February rushed

past like formula one

a twist of tomato

in the alcohol

Luke Beesley lives in Melbourne. These insidious little poems are in his recent book 'Balance” from Whitmore Press.

http://whitmorepress.wordpress.com/