new zealand electronic poetry centre

 

A.R.D. Fairburn


online works


DOWN ON MY LUCK


Wandering above a sea of glass
         in the soft April weather,
wandering through the yellow grass
         where the sheep stand and blether;
roaming the cliffs in the morning light,
         hearing the gulls that cry there,
not knowing where Iíll sleep tonight,
         not much caring, either.

I havenít got a stiver
         the tractorís pinched my job,
I owe the bar a fiver
         and the barman fifteen bob;
the good times are over,
         the monkey-man has foreclosed,
the woman has gone with the drover,
         not being what I supposed.

I used to get things spinning,
         I used to dress like a lord,
mostly I came out winning,
         but all thatís gone by the board;
my pants have lost their creases,
         Iíve fallen down on my luck,
the world has dropped to pieces
         everythingís come unstuck.

Roaming the cliffs in the morning light,
         hearing the gulls that cry there,
not knowing where Iíll sleep tonight,
         not much caring either,
wandering above a sea of glass
         in the soft April weather,
wandering through the yellow grass
         close to the end of my tether.



© A.R.D. Fairburn


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Last updated 23 June, 2002