Thursday, August 27, 2009

Actually, i think this one is better...

Sitting in my room, I regard each breath,
I feel my feet, my hands, my eyes in my head
And each breath in, each breath out.
I remember that I am in Melbourne, and that one day I shall die.
I hear the timber creak and a tram shuffle past at the end of the street.
I hear a saxophone and children playing with a ball, I see one of them slip and graze his knee.
I see a balloon floating on the breeze and imagine a dog sniffing at dry grass by a wire fence.
I remember my friends and the faces of my parents. I think of the sky changing colour at day break in spring, and how exciting summer is until the real heat arrives. I remember that I have a brother and a sister, I remember and I forget again.
I feel my back and imagine a forest growing between my shoulders. A white bird without eyes perches on my finger and looks for bugs beneath my nails. I remember something funny and I forget again. A fly buzzes past my ear and I see myself at work, making drinks, writing notes, singing songs. I dance around a corner and step over a chair. Spider webs hung in a corner sway and stretch. The floor moans and I remember my mother, sitting on a couch and looking so tired. I ask her to dance with me, but she looks away and stares at the wall. I feel angry because she is not old, but seems to wish she was.
I think of the future, the past and castles on a beach. I see art and music and each breath in, I see ships out at sea. Like tiny leaves, my thoughts are carried by water in a drain. A sun asphyxiated by cloud casts diamonds on the wind, making me cover my eyes. I see my body on the floor, doing push ups. I hear the ocean.
But I am none of these things. I am not even the sound of a tram shuffling past at the end of the street.