Poem #31 (Jack of spades) was released in the Rowden White Library, in a Sylvia Plath book. (Lazy release I know - I meant to release this in Flinders on the weekend, but between fish n chips and playing with crabs at the beach I darn well forgot.)
I used to think if I went blind
in just one eye I would only see
one side of every thing:
dogs propped steady on two legs;
a half-loop of my mother’s smile.
At night in bed I tested divisions:
pressed each palm to a nervous eye.
The night stayed whole
but I slept uneasy.
I am wary of the waxing
and the waning moon,
fear is half a star.