This will hurt me...

Seagulls, council buildings, museum roofs, flags, it's all happening here! Today the gang and I are headed up to the loveliest coast of Tasmania - the North West Coast - for some well earned rest [HAH!]. As Internet access will be uneven, if at all, I'm programming the robot again to take care of the posting while we're on the road. I've instructed him to scan the archives and post some of my favourite poems each morning. Consider this week my very own Poetry Festival . Feel free to share your picks if you think I'm backing duds. First up? i like my body when it is with your , e.e. cummings i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of...

Another Ezra shot, and another poem. Please forgive me, for I am smitten. To all those who've always been left a little cold by the challenging art of poetry, seriously, dig out some e.e. cummings and have a think about how much fun you can have with form and convention when you throw the rule book out the window. One day I am going to be very, very brave (stupid etcetera) and publish one of my very own poems on this here little old blog. Until I work up that courage (or work on those poems), you'll have to make do with shots of babies and some old favourites. [my sweet old etcetera] e.e. cummings my sweet old etcetera aunt lucy during the recent war could and what is more did tell you just what everybody was fighting for, my sister isabel created hundreds (and hundreds)of socks not to mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers etcetera wristers etcetera, my mother hoped that i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege ...