Saturday, December 24, 2016

Kristen de Kline - Poem #49 - Sydney Rd

Sydney Road 2pm 3pm it's buzzing
that almost
Christmas Eve hype
spilling out of
bars
hipsters, semi-trashed
meandering across wrinkly footpaths
over turned sun umbrellas
floating across the
zebra crossing
like lost, loose ghosts

your Italian shrink speaks fluently
but it's all reeling out in broken English
an old grainy film projected against a Persil-white wall:
you'll-get-your-life-back-on-track
it'll get worse before it gets better
go for a thirty minute walk
have a shower don't sleep all day
get out of bed
then a heightened sense of threat
vibrating in the palm of your hand
tangling you
     up
knocking you
     down:
SMS: It won't be pretty for you
And another: I'm going to bring you down BITCH

your shrink writes things down in blue biro on folio pages
she's stopped making sense you've stopped listening
on the way home you thrash 'Heaven' down the Monash
...a place where nothing, nothing ever happens ...
it's not till you sit out the back, on the one-armed sofa
     dog-ravaged, cane-chewed
that you unfold her pages
decipher random scribbles:
taming the black dog
Lifeline phone number
mobile no. of criminal lawyer
in caps: PITBULL
best in Melbourne mention me
if he can get Mario off, he can get anyone off

there's that feeling again
     it slithered across your I-Pad screen a few days back:
things appear
     liveable
          breathable
               possible

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