skins of an eel found in gutter

reminds me of butter smells

on a bowl of rice getting us

through until payday

then it’s strawberry milks on us

a bruised man is ripping bongs at the bus stop

cockroaches in lakehaven subway made the

newspaper

mum dropped the lasagne and my brother

cried in the shower

pelican itch will get you if you can’t swim

snag the motels cereal boxes

watching you cry after court

when it was hot on the bus leather seats

smelt like rotten petrol

avoid eye contact with the neighbours

throwing jim beam cans at each other

avoid the alleyways and dress for invisibility

blue bottles like the storms, storms will be

a reason for running

soggy gravy chips at the RSL, drawing on

keno cards and picking your lucky numbers

the community bus took everyone home,

my eyes searched for yours to meet.

street by street the plovers still squawked

jam on dry weetbix reminds me of

hearing you happy

finding golden keys in the loudness of a

quiet purse

every so often, violence resetting the

bus timetable the bottlebrushes the

shape of them under dry reverie and

thinking I was allergic when what I was

skimmed the sea, pulling in paddles

I was born in Gosford and when did I

develop super eyesight

we gave when we had something to give

strange men came in and out of the house

and I developed super hearing

the plovers grew swords