even nostalgic harder to find these days

the sun has bleached memory white

i scramble to remember my own name

i walk thru beachside suburbs of melbourne in the sixties

thats me with the benson

a benson was a kind of t shirt with buttons and a g t stripe

my name eludes me the brightness of the day

my companion paul  makes wry remarks about the stupid things i say

is it this way paul is it this way ? i breathlessly ask afraid to be lost

no not yet he laughs

we go in a milk bar

pauls having potato scallops and a vanilla thickshake

i decide to have chips and a caramel thickshake

when i taste pauls scallops and his milkshake i wish i had had them

he lets me ride his bike

jesus christ superstar comes on the radio

jesus thats a bit much we both say

we talk to some girls on a bus

paul cautions me as i start to carry on

shut up kilbey i know these girls!

hi paul they say

one of them turns around and looks at me

ooh whos your friend ?

oh hes just down from canberra……

they both laugh at this it makes me angry

suddenly paul and i are sitting behind them

theyre sitting on their knees kinda talking to us

im listing off all the groups i like to this girl

oh you know blah blah blah blah

never heard of any of em she says

i like her feigned defiance

we start talking about all kinds of things

the miles roll away

the bus stops

our stop says the girl

but i say

see you later she says sadly but hops off

cant we get off here?i ask paul

no he laughs we’re miles away from home still

but who were those girls ? i ask

paul shrugs i dunno

cmon paul i say

paul says i dunno i kinda know one of their brothers i suppose

and…..?

thats it ! he says and wont talk about them anymore

well thats not exactly what happened

the golden glare of that distant summer sun

delicately strips the colour from the film

the girl gets off the bus and walks away towards her home

inside is the brother paul knows

hes playing ping pong on the verandah with his friends

the mums in the kitchen making a salad

her dads watching the news on telly

the birds are calling in the slowly darkening sky

its december its warm but theres a chilly breeze some time

many different birds coo and chirrup and chatter and twitter

oh i wished i knew what they were saying

when the lawn sprinkler came on in the dusk

it seemed so romantic to me the kiss of the water on the grass

the traffic whooshed by in a trance

outside my window was a fence and another house and another fence

and this went on n on n on

a blond brick suburbia held me so peaceful in her bosom

in my bed i dreamed about paul and the girls and the bus

i dreamed a street that never ended i dreamed a ride that never stopped

i dreamed a beach and a green sea and little huts where you got changed

i dreamed our mums n dads i dreamed the ice creams they bought us

i dreamed a holiday i dreamed a lovely warm evening

i dreamed i lived in a dreamy world with dreamy girls

we sat on the bus and the dream let it all happen

it was happening in a dream and the dream was happening all around

i wonder if i ever woke up

the birds whistle still

everything illuminated by the dying sun

blinds rattle in sea breeze

ever present hum of cars

but mainly the wind softly wordlessly across the evening

that certain point day becomes night

the birds will then stop

music will amp up

a party will be thrown

people round a swimming pool laughing

today goes away perhaps forever

most dont even notice it as it rolls down around horizon

backlit by sunset

the night falls in lengthening shadow