Drinking in
Gasoline Pony,
I am gone to pieces,
shot through in translucent glow,
hoarsey bits of burnt-out verse
smoking ‘tween my lips.
A shy thought
fuelled up
is playful banter,
boisterous coy.
Gasoline Pony is no small toy.
No stubborn drunkeys
nor arching ass,
my little Pony,
she’s the Gas.
Nick lives in Sydney, Australia, with his wife and two children. He works in education and has been a primary school principal. With a background that also crosses the Arts, Neuroscience and Behavioural Ecology, poetry is his preferred medium for attempting an integrated approach to personal meaning making.
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