Sitting on a bench
In a Newtown park
In the shade of a
Brushbox tree

Leaves are falling
A bee mistakes my thumb
For a flower
And searches it
In vain for pollen

I’m looking at
An old wall
Layered thick
With Grafitti

The wall says:
‘Half of the time
We’re gone
We don’t know where”

and

‘I miss your smile’

and

‘My heart is your heart’

also

‘Aspire’

and

‘Why are lesbians angry?’

and

‘Pussy Posse’

Nearby
Toddlers play
In the playground

A tattered old man selling
Plants from a pushcart
Sits next to me
In a thick italian accent
He says:
‘We are in trouble
In this lucky country
All people care about
Anymore are bricks’

Maybe If I sat here
Under this tree
For 49 days
Letting all this
Wash over me
I would find freedom

A stray dog would come
To sleep at my feet
And I would name it Mara
If people asked who I was
I could say
‘Just call me Sid’

———-

If you don’t understand the cultural reference you can look here.

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