breezy nylons. repeating blue &

white circles, grey cottons for the

plasticitiy or nighttime imprint.

just all the fabrics since ever.

black as a shade all intimacy

& rarer, that sharp sitting pose

then a swaddling it’s unmapped

territory. stripes a crescendo

of formality, scarf as addendum

(an evening whisky with the laptop)

oh plus impractical shoes.


the sound of breathing sounded

lifeless, posted: the leaves, so,

gold-on-red / you know? peering

over the rental’s fence, intruder

in a plan b town, laneway puddle

hurdler. ‘never drive for groceries

again’. pathways for the wretched.

my future speculative rendered in oils:

head turned, a sci-fi vantage, image

triggers this abandoned account

backlog, 200 odd weeks back.