Poem
David Malouf
Typewriter Music
Typewriter Music
Typewriter Music
Hinged grasshopper legs kickback. So
quick off the mark, so
spritely. They set
the mood, the mode, the call
to light-fingered highjinks.
A meadow dance
on the keyboard,
in breathless, out-of-bounds
take-offs into
flight and giddy joyflight without
stint. The fingerpads
have it. Brailling through
études of alphabets, their chirp and clatter
grass-choppers
the morning to soundbites,
each rifleshot hammerstroke another notch
in the silence.
© 2006, David Malouf
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Poems of David Malouf
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Typewriter Music
Hinged grasshopper legs kickback. So
quick off the mark, so
spritely. They set
the mood, the mode, the call
to light-fingered highjinks.
A meadow dance
on the keyboard,
in breathless, out-of-bounds
take-offs into
flight and giddy joyflight without
stint. The fingerpads
have it. Brailling through
études of alphabets, their chirp and clatter
grass-choppers
the morning to soundbites,
each rifleshot hammerstroke another notch
in the silence.
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