there must be a tiny black line around each leaf
without this things will blur
velvet black as night
jet black as coal
the early morning rain is gentle
it alights softly upon my face like tiny cold kisses
wakes me up from my dreams
the gardens are verdant
the flowers glow in unlikely colours
birds contentedly twitter
planes up in the clouds continue to distantly roar
imagine the people sitting in the plane
they get told their breakfast options
they leave sydney far behind
they exit a story
they leave the stage
i dont want this quiet mossy morning to end
i dont want the angry boiling day breathing down my neck
with its wagging tongues and its honking horns
i want to hide in this morning
muted as it is
with no hard edges
so n so says blah blah blah
someone else got such n such
yeah really oh thats too good or bad
heres my card
credit me debit me call me stall me
peter or paul me
blow me down with a feather
my back aches
my ears ring
my eyes fade
my mind is closed for nightwork
my hand is dealt
my children awake
my my my
the palm outside my window feels the breeze with green frondy fingers
i sit in my clutter drinking pitta tea
remember the doshas?
well i’m a fiery sort so i drink things to pacify the fire
burning n returning
how i wish i was going on some holiday today
over the rainbow or that general direction
troubles melt like lemon drops
away upon the chimney tops
did david neil sing that?
i give myself 15 minutes to finish this up
if i aint cracked it then i never will
minutes de evolve into seconds
n they just fly past
the world winds harder
life speeds up
dont you know
dont you know
one minute slips into the past forever
irretrievable and gone
then another then another
my fifteen becomes thirteen
my unlucky lucky number
13 men on a dead mans chest
yo ho ho n a bottle of rum
i hit twelve panicking up a door
12 dig n delve
i am the delver if nothing else
11 aint so bad as i thought
60 seconds of mild anxiety
i await for 10 philosophically
oh there it is
it was inevitable after all
dont waste it talkin’ about it
uh…cant stop thinkin’ bout 9
when it comes my finger blurs across my dirty i-book
9 for the lily white boys dressed all in green-o
or something
is it some kinda code
predicting the end of the world 2012
or just next weeks horse race
theres 8 right on time
dead on time
hung up on a deadline
8 is straight
8 is a lot more than…
7
i gotta soft spot for 7
it was nick wards lucky number
so i guess i shouldnt bet my sausage on it
7 by 7
7 times i cursed my 7 tears
and then 6
counting down seriously when you hit six
666 the numba of the beest
ooooh scary stuff ….i’m quaking aint you
555 my dad smoked cigs called 555
5 lucky to still be alive in this hive w/ my hand-jive
four four four
what for?
why ?
all i have is questions
but i’m too impatient to hang about for the answers
cos 3 is coming
3 is hear
3 minutes to express myself
3 lousy minutes
already down to 2 n a half
2 thats low
dont tell me 2 aint low
low boy
how low can you go boy
david neil did sing that
what a lovely song
n then just as i get happy
i realise i have 1 minute
1 minute 60 seconds
i’m paralysed in indecision
i think of poor david neil
his jet falling outta the sky
the needle still in his arm
the bullet still in his chest
waiting for velvet black/jet bl……

(sound of engaged dialtone ringing on forever)