DJURGåRDEN
It smells sweet here under the dying trees,
there’s still a fruit and a high nest,
and laughter, none of it for you
and you can be happy in that.
You’re not looking for anything
that hasn’t been already found, you leave
aside grace, or desire, or violence, even
boredom, they do not apply.
You pass green trees, a green field,
people drinking beer, torn posters
in a language, pizzas and drifters in a language.
You pass as afternoon passes.
And so many bridges.
Sunset and neon is all to do with change,
it’s never otherwise,
happiness to disgust, disquiet to joy,
all in a quasi-sexual movement, a light
that never quite leaves even one-ness.
It’s the cells colliding, the dancing queens,
the drums and glittering shoulders.
It is in fact the skin which curls up between
who you are and where you’ve been.
________________________
Jill Jones www.jilljones.com.au
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