I don't know who called the taxi on the day They must have been my dog died in a hurry because my dog didn't stand a chance from playful life his final resting place the gutter found by me as I rode to school the tale of his demise left to others while the taxi got its fare my dog lay bare I don't know who called the taxi on the day my dog died.
Andrew Ballard lives in Adelaide. He was a Petty Officer medical in the Royal Australian Navy for 11 years, following which he worked for medical companies selling devices and instruments, then as a support worker in mental health, and a support worker and first aid instructor in aged care. Diagnosed with Systemic Mastocytosis, he took early retirement, with digital art, and enjoyably lawn bowls, becoming activities. With 2020’s covid year then also impacting, especially on the latter, he turned to writing, and in quick succession since November 2020 has seen his poetry published in the US in the inaugural edition of the New Jersey Mignolo Arts Group’s journal ‘Pinky Thinker Press‘ and subsequent editions, the New York poetry journal Open Skies, Friendly Street Poets Anthologies, Mindshare, Bunyip Newspaper and multiple publications in Poets Corner Indaily online newspaper.