Joan Giles’ first poem this week is inspired by her career in the early days of computer programming; her second looks at first loves and how they sometimes never quite leave us.

Distortion

Sending discreet packets
on flaky lines
from far-flung terminals
signals bouncing back
the tyranny of instant
can be a blessing
a way to blame
the static, the distance
between sine and meter
of binary digits
the messenger’s wave
is drowned in ether.

Persistence

It hangs about
that miasmic remnant
clinging to cells
attaching to follicles
every particle
of being sizzles
under deft touches
of tentacled fingers.
If this is pain
let it invade
the core of me
until I am ectoplasm.

Joan Giles was raised in the Mallee country of South Australia. She moved to the eastern states, where she trained and worked as a computer programmer in the days of mainframes, punched cards and magnetic tapes. She retired back to the Mallee with her husband, where they look after their small holding, and Joan tends her garden and writes poetry.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. A poetry book will be awarded to each contributor.