Numbers
resolve
measured by
organic time
my eyes
and brain
recognis-
ing
three-oh
then
– a slight pause as I get ready to receive the crucial detail
and it drops –
it’s a
nine
and finally the
destination name
like clothes appearing alongside
it a child’s paper toy
they
have their own
odour
deep
in the recesses
of my consciousness –
I never go there
– there
where meaning
forms blind
to the consequences
coming out
of their burrow
click
in its wake
in
the lake of memory
washing by
rocking the boat
of the present
like
out to a meeting
near Ingleburn
I see a dark Tesla
driving on
the motorway
or
on the way
home in the car
sitting at a light
and I can’t work
out if there’s
a siren
or if it’s
the car beside
me in the
queue leading back
to the empty
stretch of road
where people can
still move
so I turn off
the radio
and the moment
I do
shutting off
Triple J
with its woke derivative rubbish
or 2DayFM with its never ending cycles
of
Ed Sheeran
Pink! and
Lady Gaga
I under-
stand that
the noise
was just
the golden
4WD
resting like a promise next to me.
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