Michael Batchelor's Blog

october

the clouds promised rain
but it never came

writing

you’ll never be Dickens
or Shakespeare
or Dahl
or any of the others
you put on a pedestal
but if you try hard enough
one day you might just become
yourself

roadside assistance

I’m sitting in my car
with the door open
reading Bukowski
when an old
indian man
white beard, walking stick
walking along the pathway
stops and looks at me
I look back
smile and wave
and he does the same
before continuing on
his way
and it’s not much
but if strangers
can still offer a second
of friendship
we’ll be okay

out back

walk behind every
restaurant
cafe
and shop
and you’ll find
the sizzling air cons
the worker on smoko
the hot bags of rubbish
and the ibises
feasting on our
gluttony
which produces a smell
bad enough
to make a stone
vomit

so when you eat somewhere
walk out back
to find the filth
that comes from
our fun

little things

it’s the overdue phone bill
that slid underneath
the fridge
it’s the fuel light
that blinks when
you’re halfway to work
it’s the night worker
screaming down the
midnight road
when you’ve gotta get up
in the morning
it’s the crying baby
that won’t sleep
when you need it
more
it’s the egg shortage
when you want nothing
but an omelette

it’s the little things
thrown at you
over and over
that push you
to the edge
and when you’re ready
finally
to let go
the baby sleeps
through the night
the taxman overcharged
and sent some back
the hellish hot day
ends with a sunshower

and the miracle
sweet-talks you
off the edge
for a little while
until the next
little
thing

the garden

when the wind blows
and the flowers bend
I hope to be a weed
until the end

petri dish

we’re all just
trying to see through
a blind
situation

centrelink

guards at the door
clerks behind plexiglass
black chairs, white walls
and a grey man
clutching at his heart
waiting for an ambulance
to take him from
one hell
to another

memories

were things better
back then
or just simpler
and while our minds
continue to be
rose-tinted time machines
we have no choice
but to sit
and wonder

agnosticism

no church
no book
no tithe
no sin
just knowing
it’s unknown
and finding solace
in that