It’s as if the blue gum stepped out

     from shredded clothes

threw off its rose-coloured 

            hair rollers and tie-dyed layers

      to rest     upwind from the seaweed’s

brittle antlers      its rough bundles

            of musk and chartreuse thread—

      and just kept moving
Here the air hosts an orchestra

            of falling whistles       rainbows 

      are swift-winged     thunder gurgles

and sea and sky and, right now, i

            are one in mood and vast uneven

      breath     the water’s pummeled gleaming

lurches toward a staccato

            horizon	an infinity
      of dimples   that keeps persuading

the light to fracture and fill it         all

            the while sea custom-knits

      currents to transport her motley

prototypes—starched Victorian collars

            sardonic templates

      for bubble wrap     assorted millinery

that’s seen better days   strewn

            just so    in the latest

      castaway installation