• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 06
Image by

Spooky Pooka’s Message to the Nation

‘Now let me tell you,’
said the deer-headed man,
with twigs like dyspepsia
radiating from his stomach.

‘Let me say
that in my time here,
with nothing for my naked pelvis
but these termite mounds,

I have found it
not as bad as it appears.
There is that willow behind,
just waiting for April

and the other tree,
species still a mystery,
now a full nine months
in gestation.

I wonder when the birth will be;
I believe it may be soon,
may be a time for joy,
may have colour in it.'

1