The Whatnots

The whatnots
And somethings,

The words that carved
Themselves into trees,

Sodomised karaoke
And the death of the yo-yo,

The chewing gum that powered
The thoughts of the nervous,

A biscuit tin filled with
Slack grammar and flies,

The used tea bag skin of corner shop dullards
And weekends filled up with small talk and coke.

Tattoos on the cankles
Of single mothers gone wild,

Vitriol spat into gutters unseen,
The dreams of the shipwrecked,

A loose way of describing
The fluff from heaven’s pockets,

And a mindful trimming of diarised blather
Stitched on the lips of the thumb generation,

Their whatnots and their somethings,
The sounds of cans being kicked.

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5 Responses to “The Whatnots”

  1. A biscuit tin filled with
    Slack grammar and flies … loved that …

  2. Dennis Carter Says:

    Good to see you’ve not lost your surrealistic powers, Dunny. This is Dunstan Carter at his best.

  3. “Tattoos on the cankles
    Of single mothers gone wild”
    yes! nice!
    “A loose way of describing
    The fluff from heaven’s pockets”
    wow…
    “Their whatnots and their somethings,
    The sounds of cans being kicked.”
    sad…

  4. dunstancarter Says:

    Cheers Evelyn – I always enjoy your feedback!

  5. Alicia Says:

    Love it.

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