New leather gloves,
The scent of pounded meat
Dense forest and thorn
It pricks a hole in time
I’m back for my only ride in your dad’s
Blue-silver car
Your name, Ja-son, Ja-nus, or something so
Similar to mine still I’m thrown by it
You don’t really own names at that age
Don’t really have much baggage
I see your eyes, muddled brown boxes
Your brown hair in a box too
That won’t do – to action yes
A slingshot eyeing the wasps nest
We brought it down
The confused yellow army
Laying siege to the patio
One of the stingers stuck in dad’s black beard
Another on the pink throbbing lobe of his ear
You were taken home
I was imprisoned in my room
The window slicing us in two, I was
Damned like a twin to mourn itself
Were we happier back then?
The wheels crushing our pets’ heads
They seem to grow back –Bunyip
Spirit of a strong Australian dust devil inside
The body of a meek white rabbit
Made all myxi with its snotty yellow eyes, croaky breath
Went to its death by the hands of doctors
I cried, you wept right up until dinner time
I look at my new black hands
How can this skin have you in?
I close my eyes to ride again
In your dad’s blue-silver car
