By | 1 February 2018

from over the scarp, fire wind barks: hot
is the lot given to us who live in Perth. UV

so white it’s like invasion all over again. climate
change an explanation that pollies deny, a vain

blame game, but proof is there in how roads turn
to liquid asphalt, trees break off branches to fetch,

begin whistling for dogs. a firestorm rumbles in
the scrub & bush we have as ornamentals around

metropolitan hub. still the temperature climbs &
coals city in burning hold. release folds when the

Indian Ocean coils sol into horizon: until then, we
sweat a wet earnt from perspiration, expect snow

to fall from the flame fission & floral combustion.

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