In Poet’s Corner this week, Adelaide Hills writer, composer and poet Rob Walker looks at the seemingly ubiquitous salt.
Secret lover of the fresh-picked tomato
although of course your legal husband is Lot.
At one with water in the sea yet either may be
You yourself begat of sodium and chlorine,
the combustible and the mustard
Great War lung-dissolver, blurrer of vision
and pungency of public swimming pools.
OD and our thirst’s unslakable
your twang unmistakable
turning mouths inside out.
Too little, our nerves close down.
Saltlick of cattle
or lovers’ tongues.
Shake for me babe. I crave you
cubic astringent mouth pucker.
Rob Walker’s fourth collection of poetry, Tropeland, will be published by Five Islands Press in June. He has had poems appear in numerous journals and anthologies in Australia, the US and UK. He has also published short stories, and in collaboration with other artists, his work can be found on the Adelaide Zephyr String Quartet CD A Rain from the Shadows and at ccmixter.org
Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to firstname.lastname@example.org. A poetry book will be awarded to each contributor.
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