Late night the radio
ride
plays inanities
usually
lonely from Lithgow
mournful from Mt
Isa
ring and jaw away
mostly and ask the
brains trust
for help with the
quiz
but tonight on the
wireless
Owls Do Cry by
Janet Frame
such writing dense
as a forest sticky
as tar
spins my wheels and
hums
but words run me home
quick as anything
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