Shaking with tiredness and pent up physicality
my body now the host to a mind
my mind now a slave to learning
information
jargon
scaffolding, pedagogy, context.
There are four walls surrounding this suburb
walls that don’t really exist.
The box me in
I feel claustrophobic
and I escape
only to find
that the trams are boxes of a different shape.
I haven’t seen the horizon or stars for days
it’s no cause for concern
I know they’re there
but the too too many people
and the far too too much to do
do not let them reach here.
I share this suburb with the bats
they screech and take to the skies
I sigh and take to the nightlife
nostalgia knocks and I let her in
present moments are distant
and I am remiss to discover that the cocktails tasted better
in memory
and the summer time sunlight stretched longer.
Appreciating the workaholic lifestyle for the first time
the sounds of messy life become inaudible
as I sink deeper into the warm waters of over work
over stimulation
over enthusiastic
overwhelming tiredness, momentarily
I won’t let that lethargy take over, not this time
it has before
back in the days when I knew less about life and me.
These are some words
for those with sore back
broken hearts
big dreams
double beds.
The trees in this place are different since the drought
broke
I see me in them
they sway unknowingly in the warm north wind.
