Timber, Wood: Or Hard Rubbish Day in Brunswick.

We recently moved up north, a long and much awaited move closer to our spiritual home of the Northern Rivers. Melbourne is my home town, yet I have spent most of my life either dreaming of, or actually getting away from it. Before I left I had a brief whirlwind of creative energy, enough to pull me right out of there. Luckily had a pen with me this one particular day. Listening to Xavier Rudd on the walk home through Brunswick, it was Hard Rubbish day. Thing is, it had been for a couple of weeks. It was beginning to really piss me off that people had clearly missed the pick up day but thought they'd just chuck some more crap out on the street in case a passer-by wanted a vom stained mattress, or TV from 1983.
I whipped out my pen and wrote this. I missed road tripping. A few weeks later we roadtripped up here for good. Seeing Xavier in Byron two weeks ago reminded me of the power of music to inspire.

Garbage tornadoes

Sidewalk sofas

Concrete plinths for

Non-HDTV

Installation art

Urban Hard waste art

Public shame this art

Music in my ears

Spine tingles

Remember we got

Tears in our eyes

Watching Xavier

At Bluesfest?

I miss our van

And Missy

Sleeping in the back

Now stench

blossoms

burn my nose

But I’m listening

To Xavier, remember

Driving up the coast?

Through Mullum?

Stopped and wished we

Didn’t have to go.

Now I walk and

Whole body vibrates at the

Sound of the

Didj and I can

Hear more colours

See more sounds

Listening to

Timber and Wood

Forgetting

I’m dodging piles of it

Instead.