Sunday, June 28, 2009

Three poems by Stu Hatton

by Stu Hatton


I know I've spoken of this before,
(I'm waiting between work & a movie / tight on coffee)
but the city night
is crying
(with light)
satellites spark the sky
trams queue Swanston
trees skeletal violet, underlit
"something else"
sushi train from $2.50
pollens by Christian Dior
7 Eleven's vortex white
black icecream


sad somehow the girl

sad somehow the girl
who jogs my block
smile bent out like a coathanger
& wild patches of acne
body rope-taut
life has thinned her early

it's like i recognise
the way she's running
away from home
same time every night
recognise scales & mirror
in her eyes, hopeful of change

if there were a way
to cry with her



do not fear
what lies ahead,
do not sweat
the small numbers
which advertise the truth.
do not visit
the dealer; he is
a misfit, buying
a way out of time
no faster, no slower.
do not consume
just one more coffee
before the descent;
just drop life down
like a wind abating.
do not enter those
burning rooms again
until you have slept,
your runner has fallen,
your mirror has wept.

Author bio:

Stu Hatton is a poet, freelance writer and editor who teaches creative and professional writing at Deakin University (Melbourne, Australia). His work has appeared (or will be appearing) in hutt, Mascara, Verandah, Poetry SZ, Voiceworks, Otoliths, Bambikino, Unusual Work, Page Seventeen, Frame Lines, POAM and The Paradise Anthology. He has also performed poetry on radio, at a range of festivals, and at spoken word events around Melbourne. He maintains a blog entitled 'a collection of thoughs' at Wordyness.

1 comment:


Nice work Stu. I could particularly emotionally engage with your second poem. Reminded me of a bloke at work who jogged everywhere to nowhere. Died of stomach cancer at a very fit 40.