greyed morning a nightmare of waking into sobered light
the chilled palm still formed on the glass
dry skin settles into the gale air without radiance
after blacked sleep surges of wind disturb the senses
delusion sets into consciousness propels
further obscurities as the eye adjusts
to be a poet is to live with ghosts
leaving the house think of misjudged breath
fleeting in the lengths of unfamiliar bodies
and the night no different wiped in its unresolved law
run through the miles of road cars carried cityward
grounded in the country dirt spread beneath brick as cinder
in the centre of this thought continues nausea lasting days
even this passes time before the game
will realise itself.
- Robbie Coburn 2014
robbie coburn was born in June 1994 in Melbourne and lives in the rural district of Woodstock, Victoria.
His first book-length collection of poetry 'Rain Season' (Picaro Press) was published in 2013. He is well into a second collection, titled 'the other flesh'.
A chapbook, 'Before Bone and Viscera' is forthcoming from Rochford Street Press in 2014.