whiteley's whipbird eye cracks open the dawn
over lavender bay melting scent of frangipani
south-easterly
tim storrier called by
set fire to the washing line ...
yes, another blue bird day
coffee creaming from the terrace café
in a great arc of paint, the painter constructs a nest
yachts swing his way wendy lowers an eye
becomes a set of curves, a voice on the telephone
excerpts of pablo's lustful song/ rees' sofala landscapes
boarding school loss brett's beloved heat radiates
that blue-black bed of flame contracts in his pupils
great dog pisses of paris
whitely's sydney eye finds canine stain map
piss-elegant the beauty of stain
great vomit stains of darlinghurst
that baboon gape blood spurt heroin
needleful mindful needful
all of you a hole, a wretched eruption
oh frannie,
he says to his sis, i've had a gutful
goes to the most beautiful mountain
to withdraw
a mountain king, a hero facing off the monster
in his throne room, feeding on his life
struggle sweat and sheet wrestle wrangle vomitus
this dirty thing
will win in the end
in a beachside motel in thirroul he dies alone
leaving us deprived of decades
of his brushes and his sweet wit sway
for we are oceania
we are asia
we are of the great southern island
we are cast out
and he knew it, he painted it
we are escapees, no guilt all absolution
dionysian/ unrepentant
romulus/ remus/ wolf
we are eternity knotted into a child's handkerchief
like an orange monarch
dance and die
we are glorious as honey eaters looping to our high nests
above the river with a belled sky overhead
we are christie murdering the goddess
endlessly in those cold gray/brown london rooms
