The rain had soaked the field
the grass was green but deceptive
one foot on the earth out there
and you would sink in
three, four inches
into mud
and water that rushes forward to fill your short boot.
She winked at me on the door step
or I thought she did
it may have been the low sun that flashed through the window
my eyes fall down her body
right down to her legs, thin and shapely
I imagine her breasts
firm and pointed under her purple shirt.
There is nothing to do on the afternoon
after the interview, the conference and talking to the booksellers.
So I take a walk through the city
this isn’t the city
everyone talks about
it’s a city that is hardly ever mentioned
except when the football team does well
or there’s a riot.
I wander the back lanes that look like the lanes in my home town
I see the different way they put up street signs.
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I’ll be on the radio, Local ABC tomorrow morning at 9.45 Australian eastern time. If you can, listen in and hear me speak about my debut novel The Bomber.
Reblogged this on boofey2010.
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