The paper dolls

Yesterday

we had to dance

for a visitor’s amusement.

Today

we are pinned

to a wall.

Our pencilled eyes

can’t blink away the dust.

Pale, thin,

we grip each other’s hands

and tremble

whenever the door

opens.

The above poem is from my new (fifth) poetry collection, Personal Weather, to be launched at The Wheeler Centre, Melbourne, at 6 p.m. on Tuesday, 4 March.

The black room

                                                                                                                                       for Charles Simic

No light switch.

No windows.

A pile of kindling

but no matches.

Room without

books, or pillow,

or a thimbleful of water.

Nothing to do

except lie down

on the cold floorboards

and see how dark

it is inside you.

The above poem is from my 2014 poetry collection, Personal Weather, which will be launched at The Wheeler Centre, 176 Little Lonsdale Street, Melbourne, 6 to 8 p.m. on Tuesday, 4 March 2014.