A stream bubbles light.
Soda pop life.
Dappled leaves on thin silver trees.
Pegs in the ground,
we weave we weave we weave,
The strings of our reality,
Laughter. Laughing laughing
lafter lafter, after,
getting dafter.
Splash,
soaked in the stream,
the bubbles bubble bubble,
just a dream.

My dad says if you get wet you should take off your clothes,
'Cos clothes is what caused the aboriginals to sneeze and cough,
And die,
That far off word.

So shivering,
As a breeze sneaks in from the edge,
We wait for mum to collect a naked boy.
He's crouched in his nakedness.
Instinctually hoarding warmth.
As the echoes of laughter
Are less sure of themselves,

Then mum comes to find the absurd.
A visit from another world.