It’s been a few weeks since I wrote any poems. I still want to work on doing some more video blogging, but things have been crazy (oh, and I have been bald for a week, since doing the World’s Greatest Shave, but that is another story). Anyway, I wrote this little piece, called Maps: Last night I dreamt that I had maps of the streets of Melbourne tattooed over both of my feet, in the old shades – red, black, yellow and blue. I hid them under socks so that my parents wouldn’t see, but my father only sees in dreams, like the old Neruda question, and I am almost 41 years old, so I think that the mapped feet are not just the…