TROUT   [5]

Murray Edmond: [1 ,2 ]
Can That Mango

for Martin

Not content with his own voice, the lyre bird soon launches into

I am a derivative poet. - Robert Duncan


"The fall of a sparrow, the flight of a mango, each takes place 
beneath the angel wings of our providence - "
"I prefer the formal approach:
first write your title and your epigraph, then add the poem - "
"Look, there he goes, down Darlinghurst Road, like
Cupid and Psyche in one, gulping precautions as he goes - "
"I prefer to watch the Liar Byrd, whose many mounds are one. "


He claims his cry -
                         "My, my cry, my, my cry!"
                                                                                         - seems not
what it is -

        Men you are, men you are, beautiful,
men you are here, menhir, many menhir -

                                                                                                                         His tears -
torn from eyes in a dream of stones
on that Cornish coast, true, oh, illustrious

man you are superb, a god, yet
damned, as only

         a dancing byrd can be


Down by the river he chooses a stone,
down by the river he chooses a stone,
drives down south by the light of the moon

                               - tail-shimmering, secret and wary,
inquisitive -

Carries that stone under his tongue,
carries it there, memento of home,
wonít ever leave go till heís under the ground

                                - by night he retires to the top of a tall tree -


He seems ti fictionalise himself.
Mere ferality does not impress me.
Look at the way he makes his way.
The climb from Pearl Beach to the bathing pools.
How through him the present is represented.
His life makes each place he lives
come alive as if for the first time.

As if.


Isnít that Black Wattle Bay?

How do you mean?


In the Palace of Death
                   the invisible hands that serve
here the bed of love
                   the invisible hands that serve
the monster boy god pours oil
                   waters the face of Death


What do you require to renovate such a consummate liar?

A light foot, a stolen line, a competent singer,
                   and some place to sing withal
Whatís that he says?
Kiss and ride, kiss and ride.
Where to?
                   Man, can that man go!


  © 1998