new zealand electronic poetry centre


 Capital of  the minimal
G r a e m e   D o w n e s


Incarcerated, tarmac-bound,
The tape hiss in my head's too loud;
And every second doorway says,
"Hey buddy come on in."
Another failure wears you down
But she still drags my heart around
You gotta love the way Light Brigade
Backed second place to win,
And as the cavalry charges in
It makes a whole, new, great case for breathing.

Fathers know what life's about,
To never live their greatness out,
And in between the sheets
This buck gets shunted down the line.
For every one that lost his head,
Some other half-wit strives instead
To lose his aspirations in the colour of her eyes.
(They're like the jewels of heaven's sky!)
Come one and all to the grounding of sailors.

An untroubled ride, golden slumbers of men divine
Deep into the night, each time this odyssey loses height,
I've got a double who kicks inside.

Up here in my ivory tower
I condescended to look down
And I yelled in my defence why I sing cemetery blues;
Because if Hollywood's what the world expects,
It matters not what I do next,
But if there's always someone else out there who's crippled more than you.
You'll never know what good you'll do.

So what's it all for?
As we exit this mental ward
You know whatever old man's face you wear will cry,
"Damn! I wish I could have been them all."


ęGraeme Downes 2004


Last updated 12 July, 2004