Kurri Sonnet

By | 1 July 1998

Chocolate on your breath at the bus-stop
is instant forgetting. In five minutes
Kurri will recede from bus back window.
Maitland will loom too slowly. Hamilton,
Teralba. Soon Redfern, Sydney Central.
Now the 5:31 from Cessnock slides
down the hill, and Rover Motors’ motto
could be Slessor’s: “on time, all the time”:
so says the once-silver lettering now white,
barely so. The shrinking town set atop
two flat hills is a nasty surprise we
no longer live in. We are going home.
I kiss the taste in your mouth. Going home,
away from dickhead rednecks, names unknown.

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