Sedition
Music is the calm of a bracelet, girdle, helmet
inside words don't matter
I've found no terror in the package the song contains
there's a type of blue it resembles, one not grown ancient
the patina was freedom or something resembling the ability to finish the joke
they call for calm - you must give it up
standing on the platform with the sick trains
there are laws all around me
and the wind and the road, what of them?
Lord Fury was a four year old
If you wait too long the bet's not worth much
heat makes the far leaves grey
money comes out of the envelope into the queue
it hardly feels like rain but the situation is getting worse
keep hands clear of the door
the tremor was brief, more like a bang
what is a joke in another language?
it's not simple, no decision is based on form
there's room for an outsider if you're willing to pay
down south, it's sunny
the reading matter is getting wet
you're not alone in this
the stayers cling to the track
air sticks to thought
Jill Jones, 2 November 2005, Sydney
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