Light on red brick

By | 1 June 2014

for Alice

define personism you say
under the green light of Toto

but that’s men’s business
I am telling you how

it was fine being trapped that time
in your courtyard

o’night scaling the wall
of my first Fitzroy

brick in sun
makes sense

it does
the colour of a rusted boomer

the ones we don’t see anymore
see, you go on more than your nerve:

my wife with armpits of thistles
plaits like mescal

a horse of air & how to ride it
under the sign of Georgia/Frida

you stuck the great flower

over your heart
the colour of a ranch

where schoolgirls will come
shadowed under the caves of their hats

you wear it so lightly

my wife with the waist of dunes
head of the black cockatoo:

if you find in me
something to love

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