Going to and leaving scuffed planets, she drove her nail across a cake

of soap. Waves peeled off Bondi. Cafes continued in fine, hip disinterest.

She scrubbed the table, then, and fell into hot traffic. It was a kind of

legalised man slaughter: the archaic, better rested, individual, circumstantial,

ontological, piecemeal (we were drowning between two life savers, flags

primary colours. Used car sales. To think, the kids swum up through the

passenger-side window. Both had moustaches. Salesmen quick phrases slugs

squeezed out of envelopes soft packs and packages stitched canvas or cotton

from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, waxy blood-coloured signatures stitching

books with dental floss.) Her teeth were smashed! Getting up, she swore

bloody at cars and limped to the corner store and ordered two ice creams …

		                                          Sydney staged a fight/stayed one night

sun cream pale arms and the power of injunction, punctuation, apostrophe.

It was an apostrophe! A secular ecstasy on the sand! A round fat cut glistened

on her elbow though this was pantomime, a port of inconsistent sailor jokes.

Blue jokes in overalls and the blue bay in the mouth of a strangled burglar.

(Thieves know the tip-toe and the train line, the blue- grey rock the blue

shadow.) To dress in hot disguise with a clean white house dressed in a blue-

black suit pocket of business cards islands the coast of corn coloured light

over lawn from oblong windows. Houses ocean liners dogs slept all next day

boats putter argyle strides emerge with nine irons zippers up smirks and

milking demonstration in men’s shoes – steak dragging great clouds of

fragrance out back into George like muddy explorers. Elderly, their arms

wrinkled as udders, outraged and chatting politely to high school kids in

grape or pea green uniforms. Sydney – so very young, so very old, newly

discovered planet. How do we get our head around it? The heavy high

watermark of the harbour celebrity residence coordination in Glebe book

binding us here and there a foot facial relapse three days each morning in

a pair of Reeboks laces so long it takes a half hour to trace my way to the

universe and maths of chance time and let’s, oysters.