July 18, 2022Poem

It is winter in Queensland

griefnaturecitymusictimeidentity

It is winter in Queensland

But there are no vendors selling chestnuts

Roasting on open braziers on street corners

An aroma of hickory, onions and burgers

The air, sharply cutting with the precision

Of a razor blade

It flops down here, like a doughy burrito

Full of avocado, coleslaw

And free-range chicken

The chill is thin and reedy

Overlaid with the dry smell of outdoor heaters

Cocking a snook at the environmentalists

Who talk to each other on expensive phones

Full of rare earth metals

Before driving to events

Across the country, in old boneshakers

Disappearing in a cloud of blue smoke

After a refuelling stop

At a vegan bistro

The weather wraps itself around outdoor diners

Wearing lightweight fleeces

And cargo pants

Shoes are rarely worn out of work

An escape from convention

That has become a custom

Whatever happened to verrucas?

My mother was always worried about the changing rooms

In swimming pools

It is cold for the homeless even here

The heat going out of the day with no cloud cover

To hold it in

This is no world in which to be homeless

As the vibe of the well-heeled

Ensures that people in need are pushed

To the periphery by the wake of a gin palace

Steaming down the middle of the road

Parking up in front of a mansion

Built to last a year or two

Left to their own devices

The floaters will drown

But nobody cares about that

As the flambe’ lights up the faces of diners

Listening to a Spotify playlist

Of cool coffee table jazz

Nothing too demanding as it spoils the ambient

Atmosphere of a busy Marina

But it is winter without the wonder

Of Christmas to heighten the feeling of splendour

The Southern hemisphere

Was at the back of the queue

When it came to marketing holidays

Now they have it all to do

To catch-up

A July Christmas has its enthusiasts

Sad though it might be

Sparkling fairy lights do look cool

Against a night sky wherever you are

But a horse race that stops the country

Is a stretch

Of the imagination

Even for the optimists who still wear a singlet

In wet weather

Betting the wind will change, the sun will shine

And everything will take a turn for the better

Which it usually does

After a brekkie of smashed avo and poached eggs

On Sourdough

With a side of crispy bacon

And a medium flat-white to wash it down.