Thursday, October 9, 2008

Hell Mouth

Poets love trips, or so i am told.
wrote this looking out the window driving to bateman's bay.

And before hellmouth; dry plain
and two mountains

The entrance
To the drainage
Dribbling syphilitic
Water algae carpeted
Rusty water
Aqua morta
Thin-oiled rainbowed

An old metal fence
As much rust
As paint...
Thin strand barbed wire
Rocky dirt road
And a muddening
Puddle evaporating
Covering half the road.

The orange tire tracks
Barley perceptible.

A cleft in the face
Of a towering rock

A broken torn open
(By goannas) anthill.

A knot banged out of a fence.

A vacant ramshackle
Old cottage falling
To ruin.

The dry creek bed
Under the heat
Absorbing dual carriageway.

The hollow burnt out
Broken down dead tree.

A thick gully cold
And humid to the touch
Over grown with
Nettles and ferns
Dicksonia, briars, brambles
Thistles and trestles.

An abandoned burnt
Out car.

The open wound of
The dead innard-exposing
Animal beside
The highway.

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