What is on my mind
A question that fades behind
The machine singing in my ear
At one angle the day seems clear
But with this boom-bam blockage
Wearing me apart, I'm edge
Hugging the horizon is the brown
All that's fluffy in this town
Rises, mingle-parts of day song
I breathe, I sense, I get along
My heady doof-doof's mine alone
O yellow day within this groan
An alternative history in scratch
The body song become unlatched
As if every thing had its inner air
Twigs and steel, my squeaky chair
What is there to heft or mine
A question today won't refine
Jill Jones
11.15 am Sydney 27 July 2005
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