Can we really escape this?
I’m on a mission to slow down time
My exertion acts like an anchor
But I’m tossed around by distraction
the waves are helping me forget the
the ocean I sit above

I still drift, the land out of reach of my hand
the innocence of youth,
sits under the tuck of
trauma, boredom, drama,
and the heaviness of a comfortable routine
that sits open, like an early grave

my route, I take specific lanes,
shortcuts, the best way, by feel, to avoid slows,
delays, bottlenecks
to get to the five locations of my Sydney life
in the most unmemorable way

lately my disappointment has forced
me to look at things more intensely
the rolling of history,
my heartbeat urgent - drifting
under water -
a strange undiscovered creature
hiding in the trench

the year jet skis past me
and gives me the finger

I am good at finding the lazy solution,
which, at work, gives me ability
to streamline process,
but lately I have become resentful
of the ruling order -

I have looked to love for so long
to shift my focus, three month stints,
to become more caught, more running,
more collapsing on the couch, in the quick night
to turn over quickly into my bed