Howard Arkley 1951 -1999

gifted and fragile
growing up in the shadow
of baked bleak fibro
suburban sprawl for miles



a young boy finds escape
in hyper reality
a colour injection
into grey doom



creates magic from bland
mission brown lounge rooms
enters the wizard world
of coloured fruit tingles
impeccably detailed



with a stroke of the brush
the genie created treasure out of trash



all the tired train commuters
all the drivers in traffic jams
should have a "yellow house"
to brighten up their lives

as they drag themselves to the front door
collapsing on to a sofa in front of the box

yet another day in a life

w
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blighted by the ever present work
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                              h
                                 o
                                   p
                                     a
                                       t
                                         h

Poor Howard



He died too young