timothy leary
don’t
fill
each
hour
leave
some
blank
we
all
need a
little
slack
to
find
the
unintended
to
let moments
leach
through
and
reach
a
quiet stretch
as
the bottom
falls
out
open
the hive
a
big ask
the
weight
shifts
in
between
the
shoulders
push
beyond
the
doubts
to
the raw
ingredients
of
experience
the
only judge
that
matters
looks
through
your
eyes
dark
ages
if
scientists
are
our eyes
to
see what
we
cannot
then
why
do
we damn
our
eyes
choose
to
be
blind
and
lionise
false
prophets
mediocrities
who
lie
and
lie
‘there
is no
end
of talking’
all
their
verbal
upholstery
yet
never
a
chair
worth
sitting
in
all
effort
designing
execution
leaves
us
sighing
nowhere
to
perch
sound
effects
(1)
blessed
with
average
luck
and
a hard
head
concussion
doesn’t
come
as
easily as
the
knocks
derailing
trains
of
thinking
boom
gates
down
red lights
blinking
ding
dinging
wait
it
will pass
(2)
we
cannot
outrun
our
natures
each
generation
stamped
with
minor
notes
of
variation
attempting
to
perfect
the
score
written
long
before
we
came
here
to
perform
(3)
louis
armstrong
blew
true as
an
arrow before
the
vibrato grew
sentimental
miles
davis was
startled
behind
charlie
parker
then
changed
the
music half
a
dozen times
emotional
but
never
sentimental
(4)
polka
was
more
popular
in
corinda
when
ed
and
chris
invented
their
version
of
punk
that
volatility
of
incompetence
and
desperation
prophets
aren’t
accepted
in their
home
towns
Terry Wheeler - After graduating from law school in the
late 1980s Terry worked in the Australian public service for decades. He was
inspired to write after seeing Michael Dransfield poems in The Australian
newspaper when a teenager. Terry has been published in Australia and abroad
since retiring. He lives in Brisbane when not travelling.
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