The longings
and the things not there
The children
and the magic undiscovered
The friendship
and distortions from way back.

Sorry to the wind
over a winding nothing moment
come across the desert
where ‘roos bound
and white men crack peel
melanoma on cable TV.

A nice young lady
living for dreams
not unreasonable
A boring older man
unable to get past
a twenty five
he should’ve
quit long ago.

Sorry to unwashed armpits
thinking of a hot maybe British babe
once glimpsed talking pleasant and even
with a twiggy-thin mottled blond British dame
on the subway to the airport.
As if full, down-diving torpedo tits
were all a man could ever see
could ever care for
could ever sacrifice to.

A man on the train,
wishing the jangled jumble
would add up to a kind joy
where he was a man
and someone she
was a woman
somewhere here
in time
before
he has to step aside.

AMW/BW/To A Young Australien and then sauntering off and then wandering back