Wings of desire

Exiting that dark box with the crowd -
Catharsis
I dap my friends up, trot off
In my comfy Salomons, up to the cultural centre.
Board the 345, rest my head against the glass.
See the lights of the highway and the reflection of the river dance in between the bridges railings.
Subterranean
Against the window, Watch the different peoples faces as the walk down the isle
She’s going to make someone smile
He’d be nice to have a beer with
She’s missing home I bet
He’s probably someone’s dad
They’re new to Brissy.
Hop off, power walk back to the house over wavey KG hills.
Pass Queenslanders with pink lit rooms
Warmly suspended units
Glowing windows in distant terraces
Glancing into every home, a fraction of a life at time
Feeling a part of it all
Cross the road
Inspect the curb side collection
Almost don’t notice the watering can -
Perfect, I can use this for my new plants
Come inside
Write this poem
Marnie in my headphones
Solitude
And surrounding suburbs.

2. Paris Texas

Driver don’t slow down now
Keep going
Don’t drop me to my house
I don’t want to   be   anymore
I wanna look out the passenger window forever
I wanna to be a gaze with no body
I wanna be incorporeal
Rid me of this vessel and the weapon it conceals
I don’t want to be the perceiver, just the spectator
Looking out at shimmering office blocks
Meshes of rushing leaves
Languid and fluid
Evaporate me into the Ether
Undo my flesh and with it, sin
I don’t want to   be   anymore
Make me into one of those angels , floating around listlessly
Clip my desires and give me wings
Drop me in the Texas dirt, and wipe my guilt away.

3. Perfect Days

Coming into that bright globe
Reality
I hug my sister goodbye , I’ll see her again tomorrow
But after…
The sun on my skin , from euphoric to swampy
The facade of happiness or stubborn sadness
Arbitrary either way
My legs carry me across the bridge,
I see so many people
I will be okay without them
I see a little beetle struggling on its back, my finger goes down to turn him over
I contain multitudes
I am not the best or the worst of what I’ve done
I am brown Brisbane water
Stretching out to blue pacific sea
Don’t chase that ghost of euphoric transformation
Change is constant and gradual, like rocks worn by water
Like rivers changing shape
Come into yourself
Returning agency
Over lapping Shadows of perfection
52 days.