Policy (a cynical political poem)

Honesty
is the best Policy
but its passage
through the legislature
has
been somewhat
obstructed

poem by Pete Dowe
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Walk with Me on water

The only way
to walk along the beach
is barefoot.

For one golden sandy moment
your footprint signature
is a part of the beach;
a bayside Hollywood Boulevard.

Hear the shore break;
coooooooooh
tshhhhhhhhhh,
cover your toes.

Your path is unique
tracks now disappear
no-one can follow.

But a couple
of distinct journeys

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poem by Pete Dowe
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Diving Off Teddy Whitten's Shoulders

‘Mr Football’
takes a breath
squats under
the sea
takes both my hands
as I crouch steady
on his shoulder blades
the whites
of Ted’s blue eyes
are salt-reddened
then he lunges above
the surface
a human platform,
now it is time
for me
to let go EJ’s hands
stand in one motion and
dive, dive, dive
a holy-roll
off Ted’s shoulders

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poem by Pete Dowe
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Sawn in Half

Her languid, prime speech drawls
‘tells it like it is’ tongue
skims stones, creates ripples
ushers vowels

past her white overbite_
I catch every exhaled pebble
from her gravelly voice
stoned on cigarettes and cider.

Her bricks and mortar vernacular
graduate to polysyllabic
mortar board remarks.
I am magically sawn_

in half by the me
drawn to her accomplished artistry,
the poet to the page,
and my jaw agape

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poem by Pete Dowe
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Look Good, Feel Good

I sat in Pelligrini’s kitchen writing
when a familiar group
of female customers sat beside me
and talked.

The distaff ringleader said,
“I could go for a girl” while
the other late twenty-somethings giggled.

“No really, women look better_than men
smell better... are better communicators_
tactful... idealistic”

And I drifted off dreamily
thinking_“feel nice...
look really good together”_

but my dream turned dark
when I recalled that every man
has looked at a curvacious, vision splendid

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poem by Pete Dowe
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You can't Win a Gutter War! (second draft)

(If one becomes Evil
in order to defeat it
Evil wins)

You Lose
once
you step down
plant
both feet
firmly
in the gutter
a poison tree 1

You Lose
yourself

saw limbs of connection
amputate passion
lobotomise meaning

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poem by Pete Dowe
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Fred Gestier

When my Maternal Grandfather
ploughed the acreage
his tractor bucked and shook
the engine roared
giving him tinitis
his bleached hat
flopped impotent
as the confronting Sun
had its way
immolating
my Grandfather’s cheeks
with the catalyst
for a future legacy
of skin cancer.

At dawn
he rose
to milk Cows
indifferent
to tactile fingers

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poem by Pete Dowe
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Matty Richardson, the Usurper

I am no longer
a hero
to my son,
he likes
Matthew
Richardson:

a nodding smirk
from Matty
and my son lights up
like the M.C.G
at night.

Matty doesn’t
stumble to the T.V,
fumble the switch,
(“Enjoy your trip Dad? ”)
say,
“Bedtime cool cat”
and forget there’s

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poem by Pete Dowe
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