(If residing in Australia purchase at www.amazon.com.au) The poems were written by Trevor Poulton during the 1990s. They were rediscovered by the writer in a medium-light cardboard storage box in a garage at the base of Mt Dandenong, Victoria in March 2018. The book additionally includes Aphorisms written by the writer between 2011 and 2023. The themes include the environment, crime and policing, war, "Correctspeak" and relationships. The writing is concise with striking imagery. The following are samples of the Trevor Poulton's 77 poems. SCULPTURE OF IDEAL A sculptress deciphers white from true whitein a rough-hewn limestone block.With fall of fragments, a bulbous womandisrobes. Rubenesque thighs, recliningvoluptuously between gum treeswithin hand's reach of toolsto smooth her hair.Surfeiting on H2O and stone, she's a rock eaterbrimming with whiteness. Contrasts with her maker -petite, vulnerable. This other side of arthas absorbed the grief of stone, ascends the rubble of falling men ... falling, falling, I am falling SEARCHING FOR A HIT We are a factory of nervesbetween street lamps and the moon. Hit from behindwe stagger to our rooms. Memories flush red on a pillow.Pain stops the clock. The time has cometo remake our broken world. DRIVING ME MAD (ADDICTION) Mindlessly I drive streetsto where they want to go.My car is my body.We acknowledge stop signsargue with traffic lightscircle around the sunmap power lines.The car is my hitand I am its daywe are in tunethe radio doesn't talk back. I am the wavy linebehind the steering wheelthat needles the carin multiple directions.The motor doesn't careas long as it's churningand the seat doesn't careas long as it's occupied.I am a particle of tirednessshooting thru a gallery of streetsmy mind flat as a blown out tyre yet the car stays in Drive. HOUSE FOR SALE IN CASTLEMAINE Gold rings threadedthrough a wing of your nose, matted hair, city mouth, massaged by an estate agentmarrying you to a house.Garden encircled with granite, irises plunging in and out of dirt, conifers saluting a corrugated roof. Climbing into the nucleus of a magnoliadown its stem and you're insidethe house laid in stone.Hollows in walls where spiders camp, floor-boarded railway tracksstopping at all rooms. A miner's cottage on an era of land.Many lived here beforemaking love in cooking smells, brushing hair back into mirrors. You wander about in striped stockings, the rising damp of your fleshsticking to stone walls as an offering. SOULD You are the new proprietorthe cottage windowshad been looking for. (Trevor Poulton) Trevor Poulton lives in Melbourne, Australia. He was publisher of the regional weekly newspaper, The Central Victorian News & Review. He was admitted to the Supreme Court of Victoria as a Barrister and Solicitor in 2002 and practices as a generalist. He has played significant roles in forest campaigns during the 2000s. Several of his poems have been published in Redoubt, Verandah, On the Page, and the like. Several were read on invitation to two Melbourne Writers Festivals.
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