1. |
A Blue Heron
04:32
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|
a blue heron
crossed the front lawn at sunrise today
casting a giant bird-shadow
along the kitchen wall
down by the river
the army kids check out the cars
at the porsche dealership
down by the river
watching, not waiting
touching, not taking
obscured by leaves and shade
the old man feeds the birds
that dart between the power-lines
and his porch
a snake's head
resting, still, on the grass
it's body writhing on the driveway
while, dreamlessly, our cat sleeps
under the car
watching, not waiting
touching, not taking
and, of course,
i ignore the worst signs
sweating in the radiant heat
of the bricks beneath the washing line
watching, not waiting
touching, not taking
today will be a better day
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2. |
Windburn and Vacant
04:46
|
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|
seven-fifteen a.m
saturday morning
middle of july
cold and foggy
oh i have to get out of this place
for a while
nothing works here anymore
i make it as far as the bay
flattened trails of reeds
lead to people fishing silently
a crow pecks at the heads
left on the scaling table
blowfish swim in the shadows
of the railing
by now i thought i'd be
something better than this
insubstantial
and haunting the small spaces
in the world
young couple searches
for a dog
shot up the outlet
when he returns
he is covered in slime
and seaweed
i go a little further
past the mouth of the bay
where the water is clear
and cold and wide
where i decide
to leave here
everything you thought you loved
i will return
empty, and silent
the way i was before
swimming for crumbs
a duck soon forgets
and in the grass an ibis
creeps towards the eggs
i let it be and turn around
cutting back through the swamps
and factories
windburned and vacant
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3. |
Shifts
05:16
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|
industrial park
west of the city
all lit up in the dark
empty and inviting
i hesitate
taking in the sight
it feels like coming home
every single time
pressed against the glass
i imagine you're still working
face glowing blue
hypnotised by a spreadsheet
tomorrow
will you notice
the foggy aura of my hand print?
heavy and severe
silos in the moonlight
dreaming in the ghosts
discarded by the daytime shift
the grit and cigarette butts
record my path
to the workshop
and it's here i am reversed
the stick books
piled neatly in the lunch room
by the plastic forks and sugar packets
i turn around
there's just one more place to go
at the loading dock
on a palette of cement bags
i pass myself asleep
in a filthy red jumper
and ancient jeans
|
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4. |
Swamp Families
04:50
|
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|
dewy grass
sharp, cold and blue-green
prickling my soles
as i stand and stare
across the road
and down the street
nothing's gonna change outside today
nothing's gonna change outside today
i remember you, insane,
pissing everybody off
with your talking
we could not find a way to be kind
you died alone
in a stranger's home
nothing's gonna change outside today
nothing's gonna change outside today
late afternoon
back home
scabbing trollies for cash
in the car park
you were so silent
and focused
it was an evening of peace
for your soul
glass cracking underfoot
somebody smashed the phone booth again
morning's already turning grey
the families are sinking
in the swamp estates
nothing's gonna change outside today
nothing's gonna change outside today
|
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5. |
Computers and Television
04:21
|
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|
outside, in the afternoon
people walking
two by two
want to get some sunshine
on our shoulders
want to poke our noses out
from under the covers
next morning
shuffling down the street
to the bus stop
looking tired and neat
technology has failed to free you
pornography has failed to relieve you
behind a window
a baby is crying
under the clothesline
a lady is crying, too
computers and television
have taken us away
from the invisible world
where we used to play
i cannot provide
the things your phone has got
i stay on the outside
a shadow on your light
you know
i might be the one to give up first
admit that i can't take it
and go back to church
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6. |
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|
early morning
the concrete is still cold
a cigarette, unlit,
stuck between your lips
there they go
off to work
there they go
at last, you're alone
skateboard man
overlay the map in your mind
on the useless world
walking around the lake
the black swans
and white remote control sailboats
and the remains of me
and the remains of me
skateboard man
traversing the invisible
infinite veins
oh now the years
have crept around your bones
as the first universe
takes back what it's owed
slowly
irreversibly
skateboard man
pulling at the strands of the web
fighting against the end
|
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7. |
Bamboo Flowers
04:57
|
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|
bamboo flowers
spring is here early
this year
i am not flying
i am not rolling in
i am sliding
i am sliding
afternoon clouds
fat and green
lightning flashing
leaves rattling
i cannot sing anymore
or think of a word to say
that might turn your heart
back my way
bromeliad
full to the brim
green ants marching
all around the rim
water and poison
purpose and death
dancing together
in every breath
|
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8. |
Lost in Garden
05:01
|
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|
stranded caterpillar
slowly burning
on the hot cement
gently
fingertips squeezing
plucking from the path
mulberry leaf
soft and green
beneath you
i'll find a tree
in the park
by the drains
to leave you
silent days
with the house open wide
slamming doors
wind throws its weight around
like a righteous drunk
dinner time
i will cook enough for two
talking to the air
windows reply
in shudders
falling darkness
staring
lost in garden
like the wandering dew
|
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9. |
Happy Birthday
02:55
|
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|
the crows on the roof are calling
to the magpies across the street
the pigeons and the lorikeets
sing happy birthday to me
wish you were here this morning
that you didn't have to leave
i don't say a word
hum along with the birds
happy birthday to me
standing here on the driveway
forgot what i came out to do
staring across the roofs and the cars
the dreams and the driveways to you
lizard goes hunting for spider
spider lays trap for the fly
fly comes inside and gets lost in the light
happy birthday to me
happy birthday to me
happy birthday, happy birthday
happy birthday to me
|
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10. |
O, Come
03:07
|
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red wine
what have you ever done for me?
a struggle through the night
and a struggle through the morning
red wine, you've done nothing for me
jesus
what have you ever done for me?
the great deserter
hidden, and dead, in history
jesus, you've done nothing for me
science teacher
what have you ever done for me?
life is a meaningless. lonely waste of energy
science teacher, you've done nothing for me
everybody wants endless chances
but nobody is giving chances away
everybody wants to end all opposition
but nobody is brave enough
to face the silence alone
|
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Gareth Edwards recommends:
It's beardy.
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