ULURU
It’s not just a big rock, it’s a hundred different places to be observed, not conquered.
everchanging
dead straight roads, the heart of channel country, alluvial veins of upset earth
opalised waterholes and mint green remnants of rain
I see between the trees someone else’s mythology
roadtrains on the mango highway, black kites feast on what they leave behind
heard a bird who thinks he’s Coltrane
put the ‘i am disturbed’ sign on my door
I was handed a thousand superstitions, my grandmother’s lips in the mirror
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Voices In Artificial Light
search for the convenient myth
urban f 