three poems
by Geoffrey Aitken
so well known
the aesthetic
uses numbers
to paint the jigsaw
masterful artwork
for a child at play
on an afternoon
when storm clouds
brew outside.
beyond, city turmoil,
where thousands
bump and stray
in the labyrinth.
he will find
his way there.
it is no mystery in the end
school sports
i remember playing
leap frog outdoors
on mornings
when the teacher
decided we needed
the cobwebs
brushed.
in crisp air
and zephyr breezes
some of us understood
being a tall building
would not deny
superman
from jumping right over us
a naked truth
it was said his hat rested
on the hook by the door.
convenience,
might have been why.
folded and hung, trousers
returned a pressed look
straight leg and seam
for a lasting impression.
so too the business shirt
unsightly wrinkles
vanishing overnight
while the jacket
found a place
in his wardrobe
adjacent to the window
door closed, its mirror
inveigled
by distant city views.
year round.
the room, as neat as a pin,
suddenly offset by the dull thud
late evening of an overturning kitchen chair
Photo of Geoffrey Aitken
BIO: Geoffrey Aitken [he/him] writes his awarded minimalist poetry in Adelaide [South Australia], on unceded Kaurna land, with a ‘lived experience’ for [AUS] & [UK, US, HR, CAN, Fr & CN]. Published recently at Libre Lit & The Closed Eye Open [US], Social Alternatives [AUS], STREETCAKE magazine, Underbelly Press [UK] and soon Verge Anthology 2025 [AUS]. Nominated Best of the Net 2022.