Alien

I found this recently - I wrote it in 1997. Still relevant.

First Impressions

I met an alien today
He looked at me and looked away
He wouldn't look me in the eye
And he so small and me so high

He put a finger out to me
Not gentle though, not like ET
And raised another to the sky
And raised his heads and caught my eye

He said I know about your Earth
I've longed to visit here since birth
But from our star and in my book
It had a very different look

Can you please explain to me
Where is all the greenery
Please tell me why you smashed the sky
You must have known the trees would die

And why is it so hot down here
And all this dust about the sphere
And too much ocean boiling black
And spilling over to attack

And all these human beings pass
Their legs like wood, their eyes like glass
They must have wondered what to do
They must have asked their leaders too

So why this melting ashen place
Held inside a broken case
Did you think someone else would come
And fix it all, so you stayed dumb?

I met an alien today
He looked at me - and walked away.

A Little Patch of Paradise

My partner and I have been on the real estate trail recently. Well, I say recently - we're entering our fourth month and have so far racked up about 40 open inspections and private viewings, so I think I can safely say - errr, we have no idea still what we want or where we want to live. But gosh, it's fun! From flat to unit to apartment (and just what is the difference, I ask?) to villa to townhouse to cottage to house to renovator's bombsite sorry delight... what did we ever DO with our Saturdays before we took up this delightful pastime?

I think a preference is emerging though - away from flatland to house-on-land. I'm over it. Bear with me now, because I'm about to Go On a Bit. OK - what do the people in the flat upstairs do? (And I'm talking here about ANY people in ANY upstairs flat, including me presumably, and I'm perfect.) There's the very particular and most identifiable noise (or vibration, more accurately) that comes from the bass of a music system - no probs there usually, it's always short-lived and bearable. It does sometimes turn into a problem that is easily solved, and at least it's identifiable. But why is there a herd of elephants up there? Someone's walking across the floor...? (Some apartment blocks are, after all, and let's be charitable - shoddily built.) Fair nuff - but walking across a floor from, say, the sofa to, say, the kitchen (to put the kettle on, say) is one thing (say) - but staging a parade and doing a lot of marching up and down in heavy work boots (to your own drum I'm guessing) is quite another. Other head-scratching puzzles have included the grinding noise (furniture being dragged across the floor? - but for weeks on end? - a serious case of indecision? Big sliding door being repeatedly opened and closed?), the 747 engine-revving prior to take off (industrial washing machine on spin and not entirely steady on its feet?) and the ubiquitous, utterly mystifying and written-about-elsewhere ping-pong-ball-dropping phenomenon.

I've occasionally tried the odd experiment to see if I can replicate these noises (I've put a lot of thought into it, which explains why I don't write more poems) and thought about asking the people downstairs for feedback, except they probably have quite enough to put up with, poor things.

Anyway, isn't it great the way some estate agents feel they have to tell you what the various rooms of a property are for? "The balcony is perfect for sitting outside on", "Relax in the well-appointed living area", "Cook up a storm in this recently renovated kitchen", "This sunny verandah is perfect for entertaining or simply for enjoying the sun". Gosh, thanks, and there I was thinking I was meant to build a nuclear reactor on it. (Although I have yet to see "Take a dump in this luxurious ensuite" but it's surely coming.) And wouldn't you think that someone might reflect before writing "This won't last long!!!" (add exclamation marks as the fancy takes you), "Hmm, this could well be asking for trouble if we really need a quick sale here." Actually, I like reading all the blurb - I suspect that a lot of estate agents have the souls of poets, and that this is one area where they can really indulge themselves. They are touchingly optimistic and romantic, as in "Listen to the birds sing in this lush, leafy back garden!!!!" (if the neighbour ever turns off the mower) and "Grab the dog and kids and enjoy the walk to all amenities!!!!!" (you sure won't be able to afford petrol any more pal), and a personal favourite, "Nothing to spend on this one!!!!!!" (they seem to have unaccountably forgotten the crippling mortgage?).

And, just as every ute comes with a dog, so too does every des res have a barking, and, if you're really privileged, howling one just within hearing range.

But give me a dog over an elephant. It's all about priorities. My priority now is my own little patch of paradise. I've taken to rating houses thus: "I give this one 3 and a half exclamation marks."