in the big mixup
in the great jumble sail
in the whirling whorl of pixilated cosmos
in the secret displeasure
in the vulgar words of the flightless birds
in the starshine shone here but there gone
in the alien tampering like farmers seeding a crop
in the melting ice
in the extinguishment of flame at the core
in the airport at pompeii
in the garden in new south babylon
i’m dressed as a mortal
none would suspect my true nature
a poor man, yer honour
dressed in a poor soldiers clothes
i find meself wand’ring up this poem at a quarter to 3
you wouldnt believe this weather
whoever ever you are out there
this weather is too theatrical
this weather provided by special effects
this grey ocean a beautiful backdrop
painted by mikey angelo or carry vaggio
the droplets of rain are too tiny to really fall
they hang suspended in the matthew mark n luke warm air
yes jesus returns to the streets of capri
to the streets of key largo
to the streets of surfers paradise
to the streets of port au prince
to the mean streets of bondi beach
where the parrots n boys n cockroaches n dogs
n chicks n shops n sunburn n rich n pubs n
palms n sands n rain n rain n rain rain rain
yeah jesus is a surfer man
see him balance on that spade
see him ride his watery trail
see him effervescent in the streaming surf
see him hang ten n ten again
see him carve up the sea of galilee
him n judas smoke a joint n sharing thickshakes
they drive a falcon panel van painted blue void grey
oh him n judas man
they thick as thieves
dont get me wrong man
they surf the beaches up n down the phoenician coast
the beach of miracles
the shining sea of joy
christ what a golden boy
with their yellow hair like cotton wool and their ruddy skin
they look like blond red indians in black wet suits
yeah jesus is back in australia
where he belongs
he disappears at christmas to his weekender
someone captured it on super 8
we project it on the wall for free at this time of year
and for one night
all the old people are released from their age
and until midnight
they return to youth
they return to perfect health
and they grow up in some enchanting evened
never notice how the time slip by
never notice how the minutes grow short
more like brief seconds really
well thats it thanks n good night you say
pulling on a coat that feels like a hundred years
the palms sway in the tropics but not for you
the breeze dances down marine parade but not for you
the traffic hums n the lights change but not for you
in the sauna you all sit there sweating
when jesus walks in
you nudge and point rudely
but he sits obliviously meditating on the eternal lord vishnu
the preserver of all worlds
someone chucks some water mixed with eucalyptus oil on the sauna
even tho its against the rules
theres a big gush of hot steam it almost peels off our faces
jesus glances up from his deep meditation
thats against the rules he says
and closes his perfect eyes which are every colour n none
i watch his six pack move as he breathes in deep pranayama
i watch his lovely biceps flex as he inadvertently moves a little
outside the pool is turbid
with my pink glassed goggles i swam thru the coldish rainy seawater
i only managed nine laps
a terrible weakening hunger overtook me
a sudden boredom or lassitude of inexplicable nature
i saw a crab struggling on the bottom of the pool
i reached out to save it
why i thought my lungs would burst
i swim down down down
now this crab will bite you
i say to myself 2 fathoms down
as my ears start to hurt n my eyes start to bulge
this crab will bite you says my voice in my head
i dont care i says i will save it
i reach down n the crab nips my pink soft finger
fuck you i says you can drown then
i swim up hastily to the surface
fearing rapture of the deep overtaking me
and lest i walk neptunes halls with my mermaid bride
a miserable skellington in davy jones locker
but i pop up in bondi alright
its some other bondi perhaps or maybe
the grey sky has changed little
its a good copy of australia
but some details are missing
jesus looks up at me
i know what youre thinking he says
jehovah never made australia himself
he nicked the idea from some other god
jesus smiles and gestures to the cafes all quiet cos of the rain
he gestures to the rainy horizon n the white new guinea like clouds
he gestures to the dreaming spired penthouses with the rooftop pools
he gestures to the mr whippy van parked on the pavement
he gestures to the dogs fouling the boardwalk
he gestures to the starfish goofing off in the rockpools
he gestures to that vicious old crab now sadly drowning in the pool
he gestures to the shags drying their wings on a sign
he gestures to the australian flag hanging listlessly in the cloud
he gestures to the parking officers dishing out their lil tix of sorrow
he gestures to the second hand furniture place
he gestures to the fruit shops n all their divers melons
he gestures to the swiss grande and its overpriced rooms
he gestures to the 28th of december with its holiday torpor
he gestures to the queue at the ribs place in the square there
hey man says jesus the son of man
all of this bondi is yours n mine man
no one can ever take it away from you
even if your accountant tells you:
you cannot afford to live here
thou shalt dwell by the beach all of thy days
seagulls and sunscreen shall follow thee
and the pines and the palms and the lifesavers and ice creams
and summer will be merciful with its seabreezes
and winter shall find you warm
wrapped in a comforting fog
like today
and yes
we looked out at this miraculous version of bondi
one hour from the airport in bad traffic
only two main roads in
bondi jnctn mall is biggest in southern hemis fear
north bondi
south bondi
old bondi
nouveau bondi
bondi a la carte
mondo bondi
i come back to my silent room suddenly
a lonely birdie calls out in the distance
i must have been daydreaming
but there in my hand
a swimming cap with tiny tiny thorns
wow
so it wasnt just a dream after all