Suburban Moon

Canine Fictions

My S-I-L Belinda has an eye for the interesting, the beautiful and the absurd and takes the most wonderful photos.

I love this photo of hers and thought it the perfect match to a poem that I wrote for Gabrielle Bryden’s Close Shaves Week. Thanks, B. 🙂

Photo by Belinda Price-Sinclair

Tank
the neighbour’s dog
has a lot
to say in the morning.

I imagine he entertains
the Vox Dogz with tales
of victorious nocturnal stoushes
with the white cat from across the road:
“A face like a chook’s bum
I tell ya rrrrhahahaharuffruff “

But I’ve seen him run
wide-eyed
at the sight of her.

 (Look, Tilly, no commas! 🙂 )

I’ll have what she’s having

There’s one in every suburb

posing as a bestie, but beware

for it is said

this creature is a beastie

 

Rent-a-husband is her game

and yours is in her sights

when darkness falls, she’ll come for him

so don’t go working nights

 

“Can you help me with my …”

(stick WHATEVER in the blank)

ain’t his boy scout skills she wants

Girlfriends, let’s be frank

 

With all-consuming envy

she’s competing for your life

she wants your house, the car you drive,

to replace you as his wife

 

So, good women everywhere,

keep friends you know are true

but guard against the frenemy

lest her prey is you

 

Suburban summer

electric light show

rumbling closer,

scented star jasmine

mingling fragrance of rain,

thrum of cicadas

blending languid laughter,

glasses at the hills hoist

toasting vintage summer

The Tea Party

They bring cakes, smiling,

but there it is,

transparent in those quick glances

Like shots fired into the back of a retreating enemy

they reveal

what lies beneath –

a green glow in their empty hearts

a silent war

in this festering landscape that is suburbia