Sunday, December 21, 2014


War hangs like a crucifix around my neck,
Behind double brick walls.
In leafy Camberwell.
Where men mow lawns and women cook meals.
Men in suits, office bound.
Women in dresses, children bound.
Australia in the fifties.
Behind double brick walls.

1 comment:

Jim Murdoch said...

I suspect this has lost something in translation. Camberwell I had to look up and, of course, got the London district first but I get the idea: a posh suburb. The double-brick walls don’t mean anything—I live in an ex-Council flat and we have what we call over here cavity walls—but I suspect what you’re trying to get at is what Americans would mean when they refer to picket fences in a slightly disparaging tone. I like the way you’ve used bound to mean two things—a heading out and a tied to—but I, personally, might’ve gone with ‘housebound’ rather than ‘children bound’. The crucifix I would’ve probably hung on a wall—or sat atop the TV—rather than round the narrator’s neck. That seems a bit obvious. Good on the whole.