The lamp broods on the table In its predatory circle of light Dust rains down on an open book The suburbs ebb into darkness Hungry and desolate under antennae Rats hunt in the weeds You thought it was beauty That shocked you to a husk All your life a collusion with dying Even the air tastes bitter Her skeletal wings slice the walls She lands and opens her eyes
Published in The Australian, July 1 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment