USA/Australia, (b. 1936)
Of Pigs & the Carts They Pull
- As the total fishing due eventually adds up to enough
- to completely compensate for a soft sell in the readership so
- the hog in our body finally recognized & treated as such is
- as good a reason as any to nip up behind
- & steal a nurse. All traffic in
- the various &, to be sure, nefarious disciplines thus
- come to a screeching halt, we can now cross, skirts
- hiked, safely over to that other, greener side, a slow
- grind while they lay hard
- on their horns which, the
- other side, proves, alas, but a mirror
- of the former, that hell from which, like a sermon
- from a pulpit, we were insinuated into a congregation bereft
- of faith but as eager for the social graces as Madam
- Truffle is for the trance where the good Mathew
- will speak through her those healing words that we having
- seemingly crossed for nought must hear if a feathered lord
- is going to splash unimpeded through the surf
- of our iniquitous hearts like a model
- of schizophrenia from which a fisher
- for men might work to achieve the perfect response
- for this &, indeed, for every occasion: ‘Tobacco
- heels!’ Tobacco
- heels? Good
- Mathew, is this really what you meant to say through Madam’s
- puckered mouth? Given the difficulty of locating truffles
- in this age of the pre-emptive aside I somehow
- doubt it. Best, I think, if we just overlook
- this socially inept invitation to dance to the music
- of a hog-heavy bassoon & get back as gracefully
- as possible to the original premise – that a nurse stolen
- for her readership & set to the task of soothing
- a soaked & ruffled lord won’t by any stretch
- of the imagination justify the loss of whatever
- it is that Mathew can’t say because of censorship, downed
- wires, broken connections, unfettered foundlings, etc. The
- point, if
- there is one, being that if
- we’re five ways smart but seven
- simple we’re in trouble & it’s time (at last)
- to call up Pigtime
- & ask Them what it is.
Jane
- of her Jacks, Latin
- if they please
- of speech
- held while they fondle her map
- of the hog mine with its engine
- of snout in heavenly pink seemingly
- insatiable
- of body
- they’ll ask her to leave, her shame
- if she does while they quarrel
- over veins, while they nibble
- & nip
- at her Jills, pig
- whom they please.
About the Poet:
Philip Roby Hammial, USA/Australia, (b. 1936) a poet, publisher, editor, sculptor, painter and art curator.
After three years in the U.S. Navy and a degree in English Literature and Philosophy from Ohio University in Athens, Ohio in 1963, Hammial subsequently travelled the world for nearly ten years, visiting seventy-three countries. In 1972 he arrived in Sydney on a tourist visa and nine months later was granted residency. He is now an Australian citizen.
Hammial’s achievements include thirty published collections of poetry, poems published in 118 journals in fourteen countries, thirty-four solo sculpture exhibitions, and a position as director/curator of The Australian Collection of Outsider Art with twenty-six exhibitions of Australian Outsider Art in five countries.
In 2004 Philip was awarded an Established Writer’s grant by the Literature Board of the Australia Council. He has represented Australia at twelve international poetry festivals: Poetry Africa 2000, Durban, SA; The Franco-Anglais Festival of Poetry, Paris, 2000; The World Festival of Poets 2000, Tokyo; the Festival International de la Poesie, Trois Rivieres, Canada, 2004 and the Micro-Festival, Prague, 2009. [DES-04/18]