New Poetry by Jason Beale

Suburbanites

The slow accelerating grind  

of a distant hoon, the singular drip  

of a bathroom tap in the dark;  

the atmosphere of a Sunday night,  

after the children are asleep, 

is not much to write home about. 

The domestic gods of our domicile 

have decreed that nothing may happen 

louder than a sniffle or a shy cough— 

no flamenco dancing, no midnight lust, 

and no heart-to-heart sharing of souls 

with my partner, out like a log in bed. 

Suburbanites like us wonder at the sound  

of a dog not barking, or at the drone  

of an airplane overhead, ready to stall.  

- © Jason Beale 2022

Jason Beale is a writer from Melbourne. His poetry has appeared in Echidna Tracks and Meniscus Literary Journal.