Ruby Street

I earn, you earn, we sometimes stand and watch minutes without labour gathering

what you are is neither agreed in this era of nomad screed chasing your ear with pollute’s bead

Temperatures like emails continued heat in the hard drive a love song businesslike

Undermined by service delivery you don’t get it, leaves tenuous in late autumn

A little breathless in the sexualised the conditioned and the happy sad air

I've been taking time out from the blogosphere; I haven't timed out. I've been hot in Adelaide and shivered under my own blanket, accompanied by a series of strange dreams. The list of 'things to do' has grown longer, but many of them are happy things. I am changing direction, but as the wheel is still in its turn, I can't say what that will be. But I have shown poems in progress to a couple of people; the words are maybe not as bad as they seem to me sometimes. I have been to a lot of book launches, new words all the time. The sun is out, and last night's rain drips gently from the gutter. So many birds, perhaps the drought is sending them to coasts.