Through the convex security screen
is the solid, pink columned façade of investment properties
jutting balconies with views of bricks & drain pipes & bitumen
rented by low paid day care workers, security guards, bar attendants-
there is a constant thrash & rumble of vehicles
dark, low ceilings, broken door knobs, plastic pine flooring.
To shake off the impending sense of dread I annoint myself with the latest in modern conveniences: BI-LO Skin Repair Cream, cockroach baits, burglar alarm…& further up the road stroll past acres of mall space & ducted air conditioning snaking up walls alongside kebab & pizza joints & smiling security guards & tables of redundant products- a salesman with mike & an audience of one… me… crooning with reassuring tones of amazing bargains never to be repeated…
It is in this scene this space at 3 AM
in which the kookaburra erupts-
projecting its long splintering
echoing through the dark, narrow laneways
of the apartment complex.
Poem of the Week
Story of the Week
Graphic of the Week
Most Popular Video of Issue 43
by Bill Pieper
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