Anthony Lawrence was born in 1957 in Tamworth, in rural New South Wales. He has worked as a stockman, fisherman, truck driver and teacher of English and Drama. He has lived in Western Australia as well as NSW, and now lives in Hobart in Tasmania.
Lawrence has published five individual collections of poetry, Dreaming in Stone (1989), Three Days o ...
A cold extraction
from the sacred geometry of the combs,
my tongue released
into the essence of destinations, arrivals,
and a process bellowed smoke reveals
under the rooves of white weatherboards.
Taste this, I say, in your absence,
and I am prayerful,
despite the distracted presence
of a keeper and his son.
What I swallow is alive,
and applied to wounds
can be restorative, redolent
of the industry of gums
in the season of their flowering.
I love you, I do not say,
and turn from a netted man
and his village of imported queens
to smear a salve of honey
into the skin
on the undersides of my wrists.
When the man and his son have gone,
I taste myself, and return
to the place we have chosen -
a landscape hard-won and barren
of the constancy of love,
and I remember how we are measured
by what we do and say,
when no-one is watching, when alone.