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