Bachelor of Arts

afternoon, after the heatwave breaks


humidity on the skin

clammy droplets of sweat

sliding down


outside, the wind roars

through the gum trees

and the chimes in the gardenia


above, the ceiling fan whirrs

stirring particles

from the undusted porcelain dolls


little room for feet

two chairs, two tables, one book shelf

and the computer desk


mum’s nudes on the wall

a bedazzled orange cockatoo

and a musty old degree


bachelor of arts




Copyright February 2019



Poem written for an online course I’m doing on how to make a poem.

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