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Thylazine: The Australian Journal of Arts, Ethics & Literature                                                                                                                                 #11/thyla11k-jn
AUSTRALIAN POETS SERIES 11
The Poetry of Jenni Nixon
Selected by Coral Hull

[Above] Photo of Jenni Nixon by Tracey Beckler, 2003.

I visitor at home I urban blight I conversations I earthly delights I pasture city I

visitor at home

on the toilet reading   a book on pilots and planes   Final Flight
his heart stopped   a swift departure   my father had his album
from the airforce in New Guinea filled with photos of planes and
native women   planes and naked breasts and him too young
filling up parachute spaces with scotch to sell to yankees for profit
he crashed once in the jungle   was lost for days in humid heat
I remember scrubbing his broad back   again and again
making it red and hot and sudsy smooth   a big man
he spread his real estate salesman self about all over
the flat plains in five different patterns   Cape Cod and others
scattered seed too with the neighbour's wife and girls he could get
wherever possible   did patterns sprout up in other families?
he retired back to his country of graziers   the sea and clubs
Les Murray landscape   dry heat-shimmer roads through paddocks
at the back of the Gloucester Buckets  happier with his sisters
and in his bowling whites   beer in hand   new car in the garage
at Christmas he wouldn't take out   those Mexicans
from down south there   too many of 'em are maniacs
can't bloody drive   so he stayed inside till they left
we sang hymns and red poppies were placed upon his coffin
as his mates claimed him   he always was theirs anyway
a visitor at home   brawling with mum   waiting to go back to the club
be with men   who understood   the way of wars

Published in Café Boogie (Interactive Press, 2004).

urban blight

our house in Stanley Street   was a rector's cottage
the old church became The Stanley Palmer Culture Palace
blocks of sandstone and convict brick
sitting back from the road   with a concrete front lawn
broken brick fence   part of the Compound squats
housing hundreds   stretching from Palmer Street to Burke

I lived there   out the back   seven years in a shed
that once stored grain   now   split level
with a timber floor   and a ladder to my loft
I heard a politician   called us squatters
Urban Blight   when The Eyes
sang in Palmer Street   we drank   drugged
danced   some died   then the DMR
came to pull our houses down
create the new highway

a boy lived next door   from when he was twelve
went to prison for possession   raped
wasn't going back   sentenced again for dealing
took an overdose   was dead at 21
Smack Sally   the Dealer   sold drugs for years
kept you waiting   just for fun
as her dog lay at her feet in adoration
not a safe injecting house
kindly sharing needles with friends
they all became infected

Junkie Jo aged 27   going home   packed a few clothes
$7.00 in her pocket   one last taste   she was gone
Hari Krishna devotee   chanted   burnt incense
sent Jo's spirit on its way   body of evidence
cleaned up well before the cops came
I'm charged with cultivation
given a lecture and a good behaviour bond
(police found three small plants)
on TV crops of million dollar plantations

the Dealer wasn't home   when Poet comes to score
'Dapples' the doorbell-dog barks    bites her on the foot
Ginger screams from the top of the stairs
Go away I'm busy  (she sells leaf but doesn't smoke)
Princess in an ivory tower!   mutters Poet
Waving from the balcony
Won't mix it with commoners   leaves in disgust

Sylvie and I would meet and argue
in the public bar each day
she sitting proud   in neat pink or blues
permed hair stiff with spray
waiting for the boyfriend from the bakery
dramas keeping boredom at bay
swallowed pills with booze
in her room above Beppi's Restaurant
wasn't found for weeks

leaky roof   rain soaked bed   floors awash
our wiring on extension cords
then fires   some lost everything
lost lovers   family   dignity   me too
coughing   shakes   need another drink

where we were   there's a tollway
an air stack above the tunnel   and a sign
change given

Published in Café Boogie (Interactive Press, 2004).

conversation

a woman at the Belvoir Street Theatre's  conversations with the dead
Richard Frankland's play  (investigations into deaths in custody)
black survivor   member of the stolen generation   worries
can she hold on   not leave too soon   before the story ends
shudders   bruises on black skin   being dragged away
taken as a child   carries photos in her purse of the Home
black and white shiny pictures     evidence

small band play guitars  a woman croons
free performance mix      Unwaged and the Industry
the audience look about   comment on the set   crappy place
are restless   talk of absent friends     cheer the band   go bro'
some are here to coolly appraise the work,

harsh truth takes control of the words
anguish shouts  screams through the wall
knives in open wounds slice down to the bone
hung himself with his socks   when he always went barefoot
stabbed himself in his eye with his paintbrush
cut me brother  let the demons out

black actors play white guests at a cocktail party
wine glass elegance  are you a real aborigine?

a black diamond snake slithers across tracks in the dust
sacred ground   red earth bleeding
drying rivers weep salty tears
wind curls in blue smoke   long grasses whisper spirit talk

down the hill at Central   sitting on a brick wall
as lights change to red  five homeless men and two women
share bottles of sting   another aboriginal
standing firm on the land outside her office building
smokes  exchanges small talk   stubs out the butt
yawns   glides back into the glass and steel building
the woman in the theatre  gathering her purse
smiling through tears   remarks to a friend   good play

* the Industry:  people from theatre & the media
* sting:  coke laced with metho

Published in Café Boogie (Interactive Press, 2004).

earthly delights

invitations keep arriving   performances and poetry in the garden of delight
bring your own or someone else's poetry song story to sing recite chant or
mumble    bring your favourite cake (large) to share with the community....

I'm no writer of pretty garden views   blooming roses   autumnal hues
I see aphids and rust   rain speckles on cracker brown leaves
serpents in the garden of delight   there's no blue dog barking
on a hessian mat   under the lemon tree   behind a grey paling fence
of a city lane way   I've given up on community committee meetings
recycled unbleached minutes   permaculting snobbery that scans
chanting's okay but only for a minute or two   I'm a feral cat
whistling Looney Toons   ready to scratch   not for me
drumming beat of storytellers' magic   lost in the bush   meditating
in crystal thought fields   tea leaf readings using reverse speech
workshops on the power of scent   angel guides to rebirthing
no anxious pull and push of self promotion   working
a tofu mung bean room   tossed salad garden get-to-together
I cultivate   occasional peace of mind   mulching garbage
yanking weeds

take a lamington   says Bernadette   Sky from Byron will be waiting
she'll adore your poems   give you nutritional banquets   make love all night
compost your scraps   make organic rainbow dreams come true

Published in Café Boogie (Interactive Press, 2004).

pasture city

into the city   on the back of a ute   come fibreglass cows
Picowsso   Mootilda (Queen of the Desert)   Cudding Edge
Cowpaccina (a cafe cow)   Great Barrier Beef
and his sister Ally McVeal   Moolin Rouge stands
struts her stuff at the Queen Victoria building
as the Queens Cownsell   red and black player-card queens
(with grey wig)   holds court inside
a brown cow does voice exercises at the Opera House
on a street corner   a mustard yellow black striped udder
with citrus tang cow placidly waits and waits
colours run on wildberry cows outside Customs House
seated in the rain   CashCows queue at ATMs
Cowputer busy number crunching at the Stock Exchange
goofy green St George cow plotting takeovers in Martin Place
at Chifley Square   Cowmen Miranda   a fire engine red
banana yellow flowers cow   with wobbly fruit hat
batting eyelashes   is flattered by all the attention
Ken Done cow   crouched chewing cud
on the footpath in front of Qantas   worries
But ... Is it Art?

cattle   stare into spaces   no normal cow could contemplate
skyscrapers   cars stalled in traffic   women in high heels
men in italian suits swishing to work   polluted haste
as busy people   stop   smile   pat cows
tourists pose   friends have their photos taken with
children jump astride   apricot   jungle green   kingfisher blue
hyacinth and pink patched cows
there's even an aboriginal one   cobalt blue
with chocolate dot-paintings   down near Bennelong Point

do the cows get up and walk about?
sniff at fine leather coats on display   thinking of lost cousins
view beef patties with distaste at McDonald's
worry about mad cow disease   have recurring nightmares
mounds of slaughtered   burning cattle   at 3am
do they lope across the Harbour Bridge in mOOnlight
stop and stare   at bright lights in tall buildings
peer toward the Smiley Face of Luna Park
watch the Manly Ferry   longing to cruise   wonder
at exotic animal noises (the roar of lions) wafting
across the water from Taronga Zoo
do they go for a drink from the Tank Stream
snooze in Farm Cove   escape for mOOvable feasts
in the Botanical Gardens   lie down in green pasture
cow pats and flies   dream of open space   blue sky   flat horizon

Holy cows!   where are the chains of marigolds?
devotees chanting   drumming
offerings of incense and fodder
there's no respect for happy hoofers
only in Australia   louts
riding rough shod the work of artists
rope 'em   ride 'em   brand 'em
cowboys   rustle   smash to pieces   breakin' in
the moo moos
(and what can you do with broken hoofs on a painted plastic cow?)

mOOving on milked the public for sympathy
an udderly mooving marketing tool

Charity cows   after mustering
the steers are auctioned off
to the highest bidder
become a collector   buy a ceramic figurine
from a herd of 12 bovines   (released three times a year)
or a better bargain   beanie bag beasts
click for the international herd
or visit   www. cowparade.net.au

Published in Café Boogie (Interactive Press, 2004).

About the Poet Jenni Nixon

Jenni Nixon graduated from the Independent Theatre School, Sydney, and worked as a professional actor for many years - visitor at home won the 2002 Leonard Teale memorial performance prize at the Henry Lawson Festival, Gulgong, NSW. Published in small press anthologies including: Sappho’s Dreams & Delights, Open Boat Barbed Wire Sky, Falling for Grace, Breaking Free, Overland, Southerly, Ask the Rain, Light on Don Bank, Social Alternatives. Essays: Poetry New Zealand, Newswrite and Five Bells. Radio interviews: Gaywaves, The Red Room Company & ABC’s Poetica/ The Open Air - Robyn Ravlich -Vicki Vidiikas as remembered by her friends. (2005) Café Boogie was published by Interactive Press in 2004. CD audio/ text 2005. Jenni is an active poet and performer.
   [Above] Photo of Jenni Nixon by Tracey Beckler, 2003.

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Thylazine No.11 (June, 2006)

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