My feet move like the negotiations
of a containership approaching berth.
The eyes are the city building glass
they slip beyond the trees
scratch the humming sea.
Know so little
My fingers are ferries
teeth are loam
my back is gantry
this hair is an introduced flowering weed
ears carry the wind.
I am this harbour neither whole nor unholy.
In free supply but undrinkable
man in a mangrove
National Park railings keep me up,
keep ground down
Serious injuries may occur at cliff.
Beneath a rigged fig—down to the beach
we must have our fun
sand castles & tinted society-mums.
I go to the change sheds
to embrace change.
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