favoured stars were sticky taped to my hotel wall
in a deliberate attempt
to satisfy an urge for mediocrity
so ordinary, i'm amazed i hadn't thought of it
before i'd unpacked buddha with compassionate love
and silent gratitude at having a travelling companion
that didn't need to be kept amused
and i remember kissing the buddha's face which in the end
didn't help because my tongue turned blue
from licking imported paint which poisoned me with guilt
when a beatific ornamental fate
was what i had in mind as i lay on the bed
with my eyes closed listening to jeff buckley
singing hallelujah, and i can't get over
a dead man controlling his breath
with such purity when i'm thinking about touching
his pretty angel face with a reverence for penetrating flesh
inside my head and it makes me want to forget
this day is like the day jeff buckley accidentally
drowned and like the day
leonard screwed janis in the chelsea hotel
before he discovered los angeles zen
so way back then he had an excuse
to mention how ugly janis was but later he apologised,
saying he hoped she didn't mind
some days are best tossed aside and
it's like my hotel room getting trashed
by some arsehole who didn't give a damn
about pinching the poncho
i wanted you to remove.
Alison Daniel is an Australian poet, also a contributing editor for SideWaLK, a poetics and poetry journal. Her work has been published in many small presses as well as on line in Conspire, Mindkites, Stirring, Interweave and Clean Sheets.
In this issue:
Esther Altshul Helfgott : Michelle
Cameron : Alison Daniel : Deborah
Finch : Jean Frances :
Fiona Robyn : Elisabeth
Spinks : Sandy Steinman : Tasha
: Tilotamma : Georgie
Young