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Spirit Level
Spirit Level
Spirit Level
Ebook56 pages21 minutes

Spirit Level

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About this ebook

Mark Willing lives in Melbourne, where he works as a teacher. His poetry has been published in magazines and journals including Verandah, Small Packages, Five Bells, Centoria and Blue Dog. This is his first collection.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDebbie Lee
Release dateFeb 8, 2016
ISBN9781760410889
Spirit Level
Author

Mark Willing

Mark Willing lives in Melbourne and has had his work published in various magazines and journals. He has written a previous book, published by Ginninderra Press, entitled Spirit Level.

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    Book preview

    Spirit Level - Mark Willing

    Spirit Level

    Spirit Level

    Mark Willing

    Ginninderra Press

    Contents

    Copyright

    Spirit Level

    Spirit Level

    ISBN 978 1 76041 088 9

    Copyright © text Mark Willing 2011


    All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Requests for permission should be sent to the publisher at the address below.


    First published 2011

    Reprinted 2016


    Ginninderra Press

    PO Box 3461 Port Adelaide SA 5015

    www.ginninderrapress.com.au

    Spirit Level

    Steve


    Sitting at the kitchen table

    all night until sunrise

    with a candle

    and half a bottle of Scotch

    writing the candlelight poems

    not aware that you were watching

    even understanding

    why I do this

    flashes of lightning

    and rolls of thunder

    through the open window

    laughing my head off

    at the ecstasy

    of personal freedom

    at the unshaven ballsy reflection

    I could see in the tank’s glass

    raising my glass

    my pen and a bicep

    unaware of the eye

    peering out at me

    driving me home.

    Debt Collection


    Eight years old

    our car reversing

    out of the driveway

    on our way

    to collect debts

    because that’s our business

    we remind people

    they are fragile

    that’s our business.


    As the car

    is about to turn

    into the street

    a black shape swoops

    from the tree

    next to our driveway

    an owl – says my father

    and it rises up

    into another tree

    this time in our own yard.


    The car idles

    as we wait

    for another sighting

    but it just stays there

    just outside the range

    of our headlights.


    Something must be lurking

    in the garden below –

    something with something

    to repay.


    The car rolls forward.

    Come on – my father says –

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