Weatherboard summer peaks, leaks.
Assistant nurse science/technology in the Collage College.
They are replicated across from the space in the world.
Twists & turns, commuter, artifice, poverty in this tedious
dispute called Harrison’s Side of the Neighbourhood.
Each mirror is a temple, we pray to catastrophe.
But when fire comes as tide
his sons wild everything.
Fracture, release, dry under intent.
Volunteers leave their homes of yellow marriage, their
new tools. Pulmonary tinflake arm, knees shaking
while they come through & then strangle. Give it all up
burning to save a burning.
Collide behind the tower of flame haze comber throb of eucalyptus,
embers scour. Purpose for some child’s match
(all too many toys)
also this dumb stuff from the beginnings of us.
They too are simplified… burning corona. Elements, achromatic smoke.
After so many tears
Terry had an incendiary moment
at the Phoenix Bar
outer-suburban hot-spot half-empty.
Drank against the combustion…
he always needed quenching.
Piano under hoses
look long enough
your corneas will desiccate beneath
the laws of light.
Ardour is a pyre.
Lovers’ fingers were stoking somewhere.
There was fire.
There is envy over each rising sun. Alone now
homes of huddle, those fences
this herd of thinking ruminants above green normal.
Look there that’s me
squatting by the stream.
People cud their lazy life of prey,
parks & butterflies that
we’d raze a planet to retain.
The flames are inattentive herders.
This pairing –
its energy, our meat.
Humanity roared out of Africa
zoomed across the poisoned seas
until we chewed on atoms for just another tinder.
Find ourselves blown away,
the bridge is ablaze.