paper-orange philosophy
first in queue
you open the door
to the girl with the
greenstone
pendant
here’s
where one’s beliefs change
every day
where prayers become power points
items of possession
healers of hurt
your conversation with
her
is predictably about
tomorrow
the colour of the
fountain
the sunset’s
haemorrhaging
couples tucked into
whispering
you approach her softly / by the lake /
at the water’s edge
you enter
the prizegiving
ceremonies
of her survival - her
reliance on walking
through gates / the
opening and shutting / each different
each for a particular
reason - a walk on the wild side
through panoramas
paddocks cities through invisible people
your friendship with her
stops at the lake
her
journey is one of many phases
here
today /
then gone
ubiquitous
in the next breath
and orange kites
criss-cross valleys in the sky
she leaves your house
every day
follows the path past
motels cottages volcanic stones
boats fishermen rivers
the living and the dead confessing
she’s there for you for
the morning
for the evening
for meals / she’s
there
because the newspapers
say so
because she’s become the
main feature /
because
her survival is fixed
on the rose bush
the palm tree
the rows of perennials
your shirts
pegged on the
clothes-line
she lives on the wild
side
in a town
which lives on sulphur
the tribal directions of a family
which eats with ghosts
beds down with ghosts
she
starts each day
as if things
were pushing her towards
the lake
the galileen
waters
wash her
feet
rainbows
beget rainbows
orange kites
grin
loose pumice
nudges
albino hedge-
hogs onto
the beach
she can’t be ignored
until all that’s ephemeral
is suddenly locked up
for the
night
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