hot night
the maths teacher has kindly left on
the air conditioner
for my TAFE evening class
in the old Perth Modern School
only some say it's too cold
yet some are sweating ...
we turn off the air con
and flick the fans on.
papers circulate (better
circulate than never)
and grimaces abound.
between all this
(or because of it)
stories are told and written,
bits of poems begun and sung ...
this grey drab room
where students learn maths
day in and day out
comes alive with
couples fucking, dogs
puking up their guts
and kelpies becoming
witty sea creatures
eating the foundations of
the city. 9 pm -
class dismissed,
i eat cake as i drive away
from Post Modern School.
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