that train I missed

But you don’t have to miss it.

A little while ago I had a poem in the Moving Galleries. Which I sadly didn’t get to see in Flinders St, where it was joining a whole bunch of other poems in bringing new poetry to new people with new pictures.

Check out the Moving Galleries People’s Choice Awards… for Observance. I had a little poem featured in this exhibition, which is a beautiful collection of art and poetry which travels about trying to find new eyes and to open them up.

If you check out their site, you can vote for my poem in their awards.

No pressure – you can vote for other poems too!


For a little while after you died

to stave off the inevitable conclusion
that there was no longer any meaning to anything any more
I committed myself
to the rigorous observation
of nonsense and whimsy
to watch a baby wagging his feet in a pram
at just the precise moment
he loses a shoe
the waitress at my Korean restaurant
delivers my Bang Bang Chicken saying
“here is your meal – so hot
it will make you cry”
a TV special on Mao’s Mausoleum
shows the leader
waxy in repose
his face, a little sterner perhaps,
but almost as childlike as yours
when you slept
and I realise:
even despots dream.

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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