all those magic books making me longing for something quite marvellous

all the times in the caravan by the black lake with the blue cranes

all those tiny red sweets your lovely sister sucked on

all those planes at night in the sydney sky

yeah i am coming home laughing up the drive

the drizzling warm wind turning my umbrella mind into a wand

wandering aimlessly i come to the seapool and dove in

in the middle of the night i was alone in the water except for the rain

as i swam around weightlessly my breath escaped in silver wriggling bursts

thirsty for your fathoms down father i sank in disappearing circles

underwater the clouds held me down by my toes

my unstitched shadow was violently thrown against the sand

drowning in bed where absence has unmade it

up and above it all my angel protects and guides me like a weapon

in all spheres we are each represented by another spirit

in water air fire and earth am i put together

in gold love hate and evil pulled apart

in the loneliness of a crowded hotel the noise killed my ear

in the embrace of a memory the drink had dulled my mind

in the hand you offered a strong suit a firm shake

the new car slipped through the rain like Vsnu’s disc

i forgot to mention how warm i was feeling now safely falling home

a streetwalker a roadworker an old timer a 2 timer

tell her you do yoga says a voice in another room

you already said it grumbled the horizon which was dividing the elements

in the reflection in the mirror on the table in the corner

in the room inside the house in the quietest night imaginable

in the silence that comes into the night leaked from another world

in the things in themselves without their shells and their shields

like a sword apprehension cuts through the sway

under the green sea light i dont look like anything

under the nets and the buoys and the place where they tie the sea up

under the canopy of the surface of the very sea itself

i look like anybody else just slipping into inkiness

just a white flash of flesh in the eel filled murk

in the loneliness of a gethsemene sold for silver

in the horror of golgotha place of skulls

an echo of the groaning slaves seem to come from the sea caves

i escape with a rap on the knuckles but reality still buckles

i dream up the man i am but i slam into concrete discretion

still i’m laughing and singing and beginning that long walk to you

the tide is like the seas hide or the seas side

where land ends i should have pretended to sleep

instead some mimic in me mocks the coincidences and the stimuli

the connections between the nodes motherlode of overload

i jammed up a storm in a chinashop i couldnt stop the bull

my hands shook as i played but it was not the music it was reading your book

lofty words in a stack on the floor

i am complete i am completely complete said a voice in another room

you are the dawn mentioned paul eluard to his companion

we are there announced the voice that comes through sometimes

when youre collecting for rushes by the side of the sea

when your friend says suddenly stand beside me

when your mind has been fucked by this and by that

still i’m laughing and singing and floating in this flat

as the blue night turns to musk

i trust in slumber my reverie will be of all of thee