The Dead Man’s Unpaid Debt / Tristan Foster

Friends laugh at

Your antics

You skip the 

Card game but 

Distract them

From their bets

Your turn now

Swing dancing 

Drunk on rum

Cigarettes

Attention

Talk until

Babies cry

To the dawn

Disturbing

Your diamond

Fantasies

Snow white pearls

Gold bricks piled

Tall as this

Apartment

Balcony 

Snatching up 

Anything 

Glittering

Bower bird

Bloodshot eyes

You throw bread

To pigeons

Buddies doze

Sprawled on

Blanketless

Mattresses

The smoke of

Tyres burning

Tears leaving

Mascara

Strikes down her

Perfect face!

One way love

On the far 

Side of town

Where homes are

Behind gates

And worries

Kept street-side 

Hungover

Stuck on an

Idea

Make fortunes

Whatever

It might take

So help me 

Please dear god

Or devil

Anxious jig

Mad beauty

Eyelash on

Your cheekbone 

Thick black smoke

Left over

From firework 

Bursts or from

Garbage fires

One no less

Romantic 

Than the next

So help me

Dear god please

Pretty please

Praying your

Unhappy

Prayers till

Well, till when?

The market

Seller drags

A canvas

Bag of junk

Rotten fruits

Behind him

Dumps it in 

The harbour

Down where the 

Dead Man hides

Debts unpaid



Tristan Foster is a writer from Sydney, Australia. He is the author of Letter to the Author of the Letter to the Father and 926 Years, co-authored with Kyle Coma-Thompson.

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