I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

18 September 2011

Hello Telstra

Hello Telstra, this is me.
I wish to make a declaration —
The termination of our contract shall be
not so much a breakage as an amputation.

It’s not unreasonable, I think,
to want more internet access than I’ve got.
It’s not even unfair to say you stink.
(Wait — are you a person or just a bot?)

Do you know your wireless connection [piece of shite]
only works in the mornings up until 8
and after 10pm or sometimes midnight?
Nothing in between. I wait and wait.

I fiddle, experiment, cry and curse.
And I know when I phone for a technical person
the situation will rapidly get worse,
though one might think it couldn’t possibly worsen.

I’ve been there before. They are full of advice
and it works for five minutes, then back to square one.
I’m sorry, it’s too much. No more being nice.
You’ve had it, it’s over, you’re under the gun.

You have broken my trust and disrupted my life.
I am discombobulated, devastated, mad.
I so need my sleep! You are in for real strife.
It’s Ombudsman time; I know I’ve been had.


She unplugged her laptop and closed the lid,
then picked up the modem and hurled it hard
through the open doorway. I promise she did.
It smashed on the fence down the end of the yard.

30 Poems in 30 Days: 15, A broken object + (simultaneously) 17, 3 words of 4 or more syllables


  1. too funny-- technology is great, because i can be here, and frustrating because it seldom delivers what it promises.

  2. Thank you both. The last verse is fictional, of course. As for the rest, my husband says I should send it to them!

    mairmusic, you are so right on both counts.