Colin Campbell Robinson

In the bush

In the town of Lower Conspiracy mail is always opened, but rarely
delivered, by post office staff in the pay of an alien force.
There are five churches. They only perform funerals.
Different shopkeepers grow the same mustache. Their wives avert eyes
if you speak.
The school playground is full of little children. At 3.00 p.m. precisely
they all disappear.
The municipal pool never has anyone swimming in it.
From the Mt Tarrangower look-out you were seen cycling towards
the mineshaft.
Bar staff grin when you push open the door and the customers lie.
To be local is to score a chilled pot.
In the staggering night there is no one around except a mangy dog cringing
by the Masonic Temple.
Next time make no mistake. Pass on through.

Infinite

When the glacier moves south it melts. Rocks are exposed in the wake.
My mother tells me stories about the inexorable movement of glaciers.
She can’t help but fix her gaze on ice. She is blinded by white, curving
light. I’ll bury her when her time comes. She has given me instructions.
I know when I’ll have to leave. I know the precise instant the glacier
will halt. And that moment will be forever, my mother says.

Movie

All you need to make a movie is a woman and a betrayed friend picking up
the tab.
All you need to make a movie is an immigrant and a faded actor feeding his
amnesia.
All you need to make a movie is a blonde and a blonde on blonde.
All you need to make a movie is tension and a dissatisfied crowd
Chaplin said all he needed to make a movie was a girl, a park and a
policeman.
Godard said, a girl and a gun.