a drill bores wormholes.

Silence collapses.

orange algae bloom toxicly in the shallows.

my new man

has turned my kitchen cupboards upside down.

strange, tubular jellyfish,

or ghostly eels:

dodgy strip lights strobing overhead.

we crunch through burned brush to the brow of the hill. The secret valley lies below: the lake at its centre, its two hills steep and spread thick with heather.

a boy bounces on a trampoline.

He closes his eyes,

inhales,

tastes the air with his fingers.

the travel guide sidles closer on the table,

flirts,

curls its soft cover toward my hand.

a cat steps carefully into the depths of the overgrown flowerbed.

The long grass shivers in her wake.

the television is blank and silent.

reading an old book about bees, the fragile pages glow dark and golden.

I fall asleep and dream of honey.

cows move in tight formation against the sheet rain,

pulling themselves through the grass by the mouth.

cacti bulge from white plastic pots.

Firm, ridged flesh, velvet buds.

A forcefield of thorns.

Alien beings with vicious eyelashes.

we've not walked down this path for days.

The magnolia's leaves brush close to greet us.

at the derelict pool, I remember

Mum's silly cozzie with conical, comical cups.

Tony's white bum, trunks floating away.

The life gods.

there are hippies in Vegas. Dickie tummies, lost tickets.

Neat, looping script at ninety degrees.

Soft, tanned hands, turning pages.

my fingers read his palm.

Soft hills, deep, clear valleys.

this beach is leaving an impression on the soles of my feet.

Popping candy shingle spangles.

a girl stands, waist deep in flat sea.

She is wearing her red school jumper.

Her little sister watches from the shallows.

a deaf-blind woman is being spoken to.

She is gazing at the inner workings of her hands and wrists.

Her eyes are phosphorescent.