Here

Kristian Radford

‘collect your thoughts’

‘in fact, re-collect them’

(good advice)

I realise that
            I stopped trying 
at some point:
            I was pretty sure 
that they used to 
            exist
but I find myself
            starting to doubt

this afternoon
the cat and I 
            tanned our solar panels
lightly invigorated,
            my body remembers 
abstractions like ‘spring’ 
            and ‘outdoors’
a gentle purring 
            emits
from some internal
            dynamo

do you still hear 
            bees?
here our bees are heavy 
            and welded together
they rattle our bony window frames
            while we lie in bed
fossilising

also, the washing machine 
            spins through everything
a clumsy accompanist to 
            my voice 
when I unmute myself
            it blurs me out
throbbingly

about halfway through
            this poem
I avoid the signal temptation of
             ‘and yet’
to steer this homeward
            or point-ward
(as in, ‘get to the point’)

(and yet—)

my thoughts save me from cliché
             (this one, at least)
by being entirely 
            uncollected
and unwilling to accept
            correction
into a satisfying 
            dramatic arc

I went looking for my them
             (my thoughts)
in an old box
            buried beneath
a roomful of years
            and found only 
moth carcasses
            they floated to the floor 
like plastic feathers
            then the cat snapped 
them up
            smacked them 
between her yawning 
            gums



Kristian Radford is a Melbourne-based writer with poems published in journals including Stilts, Meniscus, Cordite and Otoliths. He works as a high school teacher.

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