Tuesday
night, rehearsal night, in Mayfield 2304.
dusk too slow in Christmas week 
the heat    and you   garage band 
I know the covers  off by heart  
 
welcome in your tangle  beat
 by beat  
 here he lags
 there he runs  
you keep no secrets
from me    weekly 
wamping out
the music   of our home-owning
fifty-something times-gone-by
suburbia
so what 
I never hear you
anywhere but home
 
behind what fence
 
inside what 
 
colourbonded
 
color-coded  
land of sufficiency
I have come to take you in
with my Webster Pak 
of comforts
along with carer visits   waves at shopkeeps    coffee on the footpath
please don’t 
die of natural causes
go down fighting   be no
total eclipse
of the heart
 
every day
ReplyDeleterehearsing tomorrow
working up to a tragedy
but somehow the world spins on
I love these guys. They are the crickets. The frogs. Our natural world.
DeleteThere's light, a certain kind of light
ReplyDelete