urban colour scheme

From here

urban colour scheme

From here

superfrank

between the static

THE LONG ROAD TO KENTUCKY

for GR

It was a long road back to Kentucky
and I did not know the landscape,
if it was all scuffed, mud-frost fields
with the occasional white clapboard church
or if it was oil towns. I do not know the States,
by capital and flag. Some gasoline was drumming
round the trunk and I was filled with hatred.
I'd heard the Bible belt was tight here,
heard that blacks and fags still swung from rope.
I tuned the radio to catch the sermons
between the static. This was Leviticus
and I was nervous. There is no religion.
The sunlight is wide and unforgiving,
no shadows, no soul that hides, no man in the sky
to shout his truths. Just us. Let us be reconciled. 
And here I was, in God's own country, alive.

from here

the shape her god takes

GridGrid

Catching the cool
blue spin
of a shop’s aircon in the evening
on the way to work.

The sun burns tufts of bay-grass,
bare bust-up ships in the dock,
dogs hiding in the filtered shade.
-
If I told you this body was an illusion
you would say
‘you’re wrong, it’s not,’ and you would be right
but also not,
right?

When I walk to work in Port Melbourne
in the spacious evening of ships,
the lit port is compiled
of dust ( the coming-up and breaking off
of waves )
the combination of the city and the sky
makes a tough metaphor.
-
If you told me you love Denise Levertov’s poem Merrit
Parkway but disagree with the shape her god takes -
capped G, the significant driver that is separate from his car
the long bar’d freeway -
I would say ‘yes’

and when I’m walking to work in Port Melbourne
I’m aware of the temporariness of the fixed glass
of the business district, the cold metallic gleaming
of it.

from here