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The Sea

Walking up and down the promenade
Waves crashing down
People passing by

A storm erupts
It’s wintertime
And the beach is empty.
Locals mill around their favourite coffee shops
Buying gourmet pet food for their little darlings
As Nushet and I are stuck on the other side
Confused about some location of the icebreakers
We realise too late we’re in some crumbling cement changeroom
That’s about to be demolished for the sleeker packer development
With designated community halls of course inserted
There’s no gym because that was condemned in 1986
After that last Bondi storm

So dripping of salty storm water we flag down a bus
And saunter non-too gracefully
To my ghost ridden semi
Down Birrell St way

1998

Ziggy - scribblings

Ziggy hadn’t been home in a one while. It's not that she hated her parents. She just found them extremely boring, as well as the steeple across the road. Well it wasn’t directly in view of her front bedroom window but it might as well as seen. All horizons to the west faced McDonalds he Mormons and you had to hide in some stranger's mini to dodge them on the footpath.

What is this that I'm doing right now. Is it worth doing what I do or should I just let life coast me down to a beaten pulp and take any job that finds me whether I want it or not. I'll sit and wait till the ice takes over and the mind is blank and dead. Unable to complain anymore as there is no one bothered to listen right now. Or is that what's happening now. You talk yet no one listens.

The wind picks it up and it flows like lost conversations yet to be heard and left unhindered.