The Loop
North Melbourne
North Melbourne station
is in West Melbourne
I lived across
the road with my sister
but she’s moving to Canberra
so now I’m balancing
two bags on a suitcase
with cacti-like plastic sculptures
one side, buildings on the other
and the train in three minutes
via the city loop
Flagstaff
reception cut out
I want to say:
it’s nice to sit outside
and watch the chickens
making tea for everyone
and chatting between rooms
I want to say:
often I wish I could just
hold all the good parts in
both hands
I get hit by the
blue and yellow
face
I get stuck
I want to say:
you fucked up
when you taught me
conflict resolution
this is how you end up
ripped open and
waiting
for someone bright
and beautiful
to crawl into
the space of your
open ribs, thinking
it’s okay now
I can rest
Central
they don’t need a reason
to evict you
how messed up is that?
– anyway
outside is a blur
tomorrow will be different
we should get the bond back
right? It’s like rushing
through a crowd
to the end of the platform
so I can roll my walker
over black rippled tire
just beat the train – but
then I realise
I’m at the wrong side
Parliament
the only place to be
alone is in public
sometimes
sadness is a rippling wet sheet
of orange
red
and blue
glowing through the whole house
a steep escalator
down to heaven
or limbo more likely
dog barking
heaving sobs
I couldn’t imagine
letting my grief get that loud
but now
it’s coming out all over
bathroom stalls and
train walls
Southern Cross
now arriving we pause
for seven days
yellow flowers grey rubble purple faces
just hit me please
it’s flat here the trees are deliberate
the ocean is far away
but where I’m living now
there’s rainbow marker on the fridge
I don’t miss the ghost
of my dog
running up the stairs
and copies of News Weekly
I just want to go home to
driving the channel highway
with my friends
thumps on late night walks
I love those fucking wallabies
they’re eating up the garden
and shitting everywhere again
Flinders Street
I want to be alone
and not alone
put me in an empty carriage
and I’ll stare right out the
window
so hard
the train won’t move
I’ll ask you what are
healthy boundaries
and negotiable problems?
you’ll say – you let
your morals guide you
and I’ll always be impressed
I want to scream
I want the closeness
of dog-piles in the sun
without the wall-scratching
suffocation boundaries
are a kind of distance
is distance always
lonely?
can I fall in love
with busy streets on all sides
fast food and fast people
sitting on the ground
until the train comes
loving with my ribs
intact
lonely with
friends
