By | 29 May 2003

fifteen day sleeping tour of the north coast
relieves your fixations, prices slashed even further –
parties, exhibitions, murrumbidgee dried fruit
now open to the public, decades of tattoos
on euston road & a jeep wrangler abandoned on the footpath.
from here the country's just a shimmy away,
that drone you can't clear from the microphone
& a pipeband playing scotland the brave.
later still it's the bedsit thing, all kitchen sink drama,
no woodchips & six dollar pasta
across the street from the neighbourhood centre,
corners & intersections & recycled kisses,
your feelings reconfigured like a frankenscience project,
iterative heart & useful things to think about,
comfortably dissociated, scrawny chicken bits dangling
beneath your t-shirt, the performative redundancy
desire amounts to, like a body surfer,
staggering up the beach with a mouthful of sand

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