The poem snap below is just to quickly catch last night's festivities courtesy of an invitation to overlook the harbour and the fireworks (thanks Mel and Jos). OK, naff perhaps, but fun. Fun is good.

I'm eating ginger candy at the moment - Ingwer Bonbon - barely coping and wishing for a breeze from anywhere but the west.

Hot in night's layers, north easterlies
and acidic beverages
we climb over the city
the harbour's wide amphitheatre

The cliplock roof is safe but hard to traverse
as a world
the busy black lit sky
(Mel says an engineer has checked it out)

At count down end
(Jay, joking, begins calling the show
all on standby, pyros go)
fairy flash in hundreds & thousands
of useless cameras
flicker and miss the bursting drifts

Sky fills with cartoon stars
streaks, pompoms, blooming breasts
rose orchid galaxies
disturbing the night trip of flying foxes
ghost white against
the illuminated noise

Our awe is real
and ironic - we do that easily
under this boom crash opera
with a million friends
as the Bridge - our chunky old Bridge
dances in the light
(Mel says Martin got the gig
playing wonder games with decks and switches
in a room in Centrepoint Tower)

Another 'event' for sure
we've done events and know the wrangle
but we're happy in this smoke and energy
all exit stage left and easier now
getting across the roof though
I need your hand to steady me
until we are level

Thursday 1 January 2004, Sydney, 12.45pm


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