Summer seeking
somewhere over the horizon
under a foreign sun
The warm neopolitan nights
revealing northern stars
Gazing at a stranger moon
bearing ancient scars
At a loss …
the Southern Cross
even the Milky Way
seem to have somehow
all gone astray?
As far as the East
is from the West
at the speed of desperate need
progress … a grab bag of plastic
all mixed up with curses blessed
by the priests of endless greed
I dreamt upon
the flight of night
riding the backseat
of a V8 Ford Pilot
whilst a Corporate Shaman
was stelthily installing
into my right arm
a mechanism
powered by lithium
that would recharge
my iPhone
and disseminate information
I asked
was this for my benefit
. . . or theirs?
but a vowel of silence
prevented him from answering
Roaming the Never Never
of an ancient and sacred land
where the secreted past
paves over a haunted future
Lingering upon the red desert sand
crimes unforgotten
A voice through the Dreamtime
whispers . . . “All can be forgiven”
