The apples needed thinning
The figs are nearly done
My top lip, dry, stuck on an eye tooth, like a fruit peel glued down by the sun.
The wind at my tshirt
The flax pods burgeoning, whipping my knees and hands
Superhero powers unmasked, drunk, on a bike, barreling through the community orchard on the cusp of this sticky night.
I’ve been stripping back the layers, each carapace a weight off my throat
Shedding others’ raruraru
Looking for My return home
I know I’m out of nick, two lady walkers pressed hard back into the ivy, laughing nervously like they’ve been trained
The translation unneeded (leave us alone).
A fresh shorn ewe in the paddock betwixt the houses and the river
An emissary from the other place
She sniffed my knuckles
Threw off my scritch
And said with a toss of the head not yet mate, go on.
So I rode another block or two
pausing where I wasn’t seen
but the late blackbird preening
She saw me
High in cables.
Pretending to nibble a mite in her armpit, long tail feathers fanned for balance: yeah. I know I’ve been seen.
Then I smelt it.
Packet sweet and sour sauce
Pumped out kitchen ducts
The Cossie Club in full swing.
Then I saw them
Carefree two up
The kids out riding it made meaning.
Then I felt it.
I leant into tide of air
I threw myself into it
Folded, pedalling, gasping
That burn in legs all mine.
So as I flotsam a burden
I find a new threshold
Raw edges picked at
Bailage wrapped purple
New covers growing
Fresh grass green
Picking my way home down alleys
Under a slate pool tile sky
Weaving through families gawping at flashing L E D Christmas scenes.
Face tired from an affected grimace
Sand fly bites all over
Bodily racked
A soul both withered and of promise
A home dually serene and raucous
Three sleeps
Christmas
Hallelujah
Holy shit
Maybe it’s just a dream.
