Another Year

Lachlan Brown

Summer is here, in
the sheets of the Herald
squeezed between poor copy and
ads for the government. These days it’s
ink stains melting bitumen & crumpled business
sections, echoing an 80s classic that has somehow
heaved itself into another year, sweating
on 120 bpm like a fat jogger/ all bulges and baseline.
Help, help! I really want this
night to laugh forever, or at least
to crack a smile, like a bottle
opening before dinner, or a dress that’s
back in style.
But instead we’re left with reruns, run-outs and styrofoam
containers, as the radio jumps & froths,
spilling beer-brained tunes out of car windows
on George Street. Here’s some good news, though–

i) – fuel prices
should
drop
after the invasion

&

ii) – if you keep driving then you
don’t have to pay for parking.

So save your money Rusty! Nocturne’s
don’t come cheap, and the north shore
keeps peering at the Opera House &
willing it to swap places with the zoo.
What’s more, one day we’ll take off for some
suburb that’s not on the train map
& we’ll laugh hard and scoff down four
bucks worth of hot chips
wrapped in shadows & greasy
reviews of Tetsuya’s.

This poem is taken from Total Cardboard issue 7, and remains under copyright. For more information see www.totalcardboard.com