The arrival of the monsoon

By | 14 December 2009

The arrival of the monsoon ―
meant a town full of clean cars. but people kept buying imported water
filling the damp winds with thirst
and filling the rivers with empty bottles, floating by like dreams of escape
parrots, dogs, cats, and mice making a beeline to the hills
peeled wrappers, plastic bags and fruit skins surrender
all is awash of senses, all is clean
even beetles scurry with their now shiny armour
while the rain falls and falls
a cane toad hides in a potted palm tree
the arrival of the monsoon in Melbourne enticed dugongs south, and the reef
made silent flowers beneath the line of sight
tis a pity the monsoon did not venture into Sydney’s wastrel music cigarette
butt paths, cleansing – giving witness to new creations
perhaps she is en route, somewhere far off, somewhere far from, somewhere lost
on some other beaten track like a good time wild girl will, she is waylaid,
last seen in wine country
dimly drunk and blowsy with potential
like Australia.
Go away and cry a mean Australian rain
to the monsoon that is woman and the drought that is man.
I will not be emptied thus
though my hips melt into the formless sea
like a seal in an oilslick
waking up in Ipswich or some such state of mind
begat an outpouring of joy and singing, snakes swimming in the creeks
being caught and threaded into lay

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