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”


‘I miss your smile’


‘My heart is your heart’




‘Why are lesbians angry?’


‘Pussy Posse’

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.