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Life .. still .. game.

(After Gould again)

How odd or even
obvious that we seek
the serene artifice
of a library, easing
our dripping sweat
with its slowed, cooled time

Here we first met,
face to face, I laughed
as I saw you had comically
draped a lithe trout
clumsily over a jar
while a rabbit, hare or
something similar

Fixed me with its
dead live gaze
from that framed place
so far..
Was that you?
in the delicate disproportionate head,
locked in the corpus, looking out
at these generations ahead,

Or did I see the eyes of the living,
In the contorted forms of the dead..?

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Reference: Another observation on one of my favourite convict artists again, poor old Billy Gould, see: This place (The Allport museum) is like a little cool haven in the midst of Hobart's stinging heat, on my lunchtime wanderings, I'll often be found in there. He actually did many, many variations of this theme, as you can see here, none of which are actually the on the wall in the Allport museum, where his trout is, to my mind:"comically draped" - see: Apologies for the massive URL. Chris.
Editing stage: 


Wouldn't you love a Tardis?
Gould was transported to Tasmania in 1827 for stealing a coat.

Hope my reading does it some justice. I would be happy to redo it if you have any suggestions for emotion/tone/pacing or whatever because I want to post this one on Facebook.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

And, yes, I would bloody love a Tardis, landing on Sarah Island and rescuing him from that awful place. Loved the reading, great pace and tone. Thanks for that!

Cheers Jess.


Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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