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A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.


Here we are on Hunter Street, outside the University of Tasmania's Art School looking towards what remains of the working port. It's an interesting nexus of ideas at work here, and is replicated in Launceston, where their Art School is located with an old railyard. Deliberate? Who knows!

Here's a romantic poem today.

Woman

Her hair...
shimmered.

Her eyes...
sparkled.

Her smile...
glimmered.

Her neck...
glistened.

Her pancreas...
excreted.
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Comments

freefalling said…
I'm really loving your poems lately.
7 April 2009 at 07:49
Kris McCracken said…
FF, they're all worthy of Keats and Wordsworth!
7 April 2009 at 09:32
Tania said…
or U2
7 April 2009 at 11:22
Kris McCracken said…
Tania, Bono just stole the line from Gloria Steinem.
7 April 2009 at 14:06
Priyanka Khot said…
Hahahahah... what a laugh riot... ur idea of romance worries me a tad bit.
7 April 2009 at 14:52
Candie said…
Pancreas romantic?not sure..:D
7 April 2009 at 18:27
Babzy.B said…
nice poem ;)
7 April 2009 at 22:46
Z said…
Urm, the absurdity of romance indeed.
8 April 2009 at 01:21
Kris McCracken said…
Priyanka, romance is a bit silly really. It makes people do profoundly stupid things.
8 April 2009 at 09:01
Kris McCracken said…
Candie, all of wife's organs are wonderful to me.
8 April 2009 at 09:01
Kris McCracken said…
Z, got it in one!
8 April 2009 at 09:02
yamini said…
What is actually your idea of romance???

does seem frightening if we go by the poem ;))
8 April 2009 at 15:05
Kris McCracken said…
Yamini, a bit of slap 'n tickle!
10 April 2009 at 18:26
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