Poem: The Writer
The rain in Spain never falls on Gerald Murnane,
his one-finger typing never took him out of Australia,
only took his mind wherever it needed
to go – he’s slowing, he’s older, he’s pouring pints
now, writing hardly ever. He’s done enough
of course. It’s a simple life, filled with extraordinary
work. Could anyone actually hope for more
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Sounds Good! to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.