Out back rest stop
he waits in the car
the engine on
Banksia
bleeding
from my centre
He takes our photo
the horizon
is crooked
Out back rest stop
he waits in the car
the engine on
Banksia
bleeding
from my centre
He takes our photo
the horizon
is crooked
contained by pantyhose
side by side
white nylon statued
on an oblong pedestal
attached to the ceiling
an absent crotch
blue lids for ankles
M 05103 L1 and M 05101 L1
used by the 19th January
the space behind the chalk
above her number plates
circular on the road
transparent on the window
the bottom of the trolley
on the buddha’s back
over the whole truck
behind an open sign
before the milk’s poured in
inside the lining of her boots
underneath the ‘specials’
the cover for an ashtray
a jacket sitting on the seat
between lips on a straw
the letter Z on a box
the lid of a bottle of booze
a tray glued to the wall
a pale plate stacked on blue
what a time we’ve had
the piano playing
as the bass strummed
the yelling neighbours
Louder Later Longer
the red wine sipping
pink teeth
stained lips
the fish that caught you
baking the oven
what a time we’ll have
when finally
the kiss allows to lips
and my bed
sweats into your pores
the fish eating us alive
writhing in its skin as
blue eyes are thrown back in
what a time I’m having
in a pond drenched
with music and rose
my body filling my head
with hands
senses torturing
a repetitive song
longing grasping itself
while trying to shake
salt into the flesh of dinner
what a time I’ve had
the wine pouring itself
from one cup
into one mouth
the bed warming itself
on one side