Permanently anxious and alone on a boat

Raised hairs on arms like some freak ghost-watcher

It's the being alone and my own consciousness

Of not being elated

By being on a boat.

Brisbane city transport

Can't live with it can't live without it

Fucking sparkling gif of a river, constant

Idiot

I can't cry anymore from lack of child-love, missed Birthdays

Or fucked up chocolate cakes with hair in them

And if I maybe felt like all the things
I've said and done with people
Resemble Murikami's thin romances
Some toying touch and wrist flick
That left them broken
Then I'm more alone then ever now.

More than one suicide, a few cats and you're doused
Again in a smell I still catch
On my friend's friend
I'm too shy to ask it's name
To see if I'm right or if I'm just stupid.

If I dream of you it's a nice release
From car crashes and glazed cakes.

Your shitty hand-holds seem some
Unreal thing that I once knew
And the way we sat with the world
Between our crossed legs
And ate and smiled.

One week here and there
Might seem insignificant for one
Unaware
Of how I keep time.

Some great chance to connect with
A relative, bald and blind.

You could say I'm trying
At least I'm not crying
When his head turns
And I'm not given the choice
To reciprocate.

It's fumigation day at Gita Bayu
Barbed fences and small dogs wearing shoes
Guard the entrance.

Through the smoke, men in gas masks sway
With their guns, past the palatial four-stories.
Small women adjust their Hijabs between
Scrubbing cars.

I sit and suck in the grey stuff
Open-legged, make weird noises
From my cigarette-hole.

I use all my hands to cover my breasts
Turn my head and weep when they stare at me.