In the thick suburban breathing
crickets revolve on familiar bricks
of monotonous houses, and the afternoon
drifts by like the day-dream of a memory.

In the musty lounge she hears his
sandy boot-steps disturb the kitchen,
she is afraid of his calm eyes
beneath iron eyebrows.

(one day we
will be one
I love you
soon I am going
to kill you)
Reclined and breathing in her furniture
he tickles the kitten gently / a man
who speaks little and lives together
with his wife alone…

She keeps him leashed to the heel of her tongue,
‘I have frozen my life for you
I have
frozen my life
for you I have frozen
my life
for you I
have frozen
my life for you
I’
He floods the house with television.

1. meals             1. fire
2. laundry          2. wood chopped
3. beds made    3. garage

But in bed at night
strange familiar tides
may smooth their broken coasts.

(published in Quarry; A Selection of Western Australian Poetry. Ed. Fay Zwicky. F.A.C.P)