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| george anderson |  | 1. Toe Down in the basement on Orchard Avenue the incongruity of the age resonating, ringing true, gleaming like tall totems to a prehistory of truth. Toe clutching his substantial beer gut like a porterhouse, pontificating, 'Stokes man, I've invested heaps of brass in this’. The beers cracking open with great regularity, pissing on the latest statistics that two or more standard drinks per day represent binge drinking & endanger your long-term health. The camel shit meanwhile being sucked deeply upon, oblivious to its long term consequences. ‘That’s fucken science fiction’, Toe exclaims as he ushers out another deep gulp of womble. Mostly, we just sit here at the table in the basement, stoned, listen to music, laugh ourselves wicked and try our best not to piece all the shit together. 2. Marrickville The fetid laneway in grey monotony Funnels to an open snatch of sky Hotted up cars in low moaning gears Rumble through the spine of the inner city A distant shriek of police sirens A dark cough, a sudden roar A glint of steel, a silver nose exploding upwards A flash of faces above the rooftops. An undercarriage. A sleek metal body thundering into the clouds. A distant, gnawing silence A lawn mower A hammer A nail being hit A sudden throb of music. The laughter of girls. The approaching ecstasy of Rain. | |
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