Recluse, male, 31, the beach is wonderful this morning
Frisbee, lost, white, 2 years
Grass, authoritarian garden, weeds, rebellion
Seagulls, vultures, gah gah 'gah'
Swish, swish, gentle ocean waves
Coffee, filled with sweet things
A lady gave me a pot of honey yesterday
Karri honey from Pemberton
That's where I went bush after selling everything ten years ago
And the Karri is my favourite tree
My exchange was piano in a public place
A romanian scale
And her familiarity
Green, green grass
Feeling optimistic
Sky, blue
Horizon, smog
Dots of coloured and lighted wonder scatter across the lighted sky
Frisbee, poor lonely frisbee
Who will play with you again?
Upside down, without a home
Where will you go from here?
Has your planned obsolescent time frame expired?
Maybe you'll be picked up again
And your cheap plastic renewed with fresh oils of lavender and myrrh
Maybe you'll see two more days in the sun before your saviour comes
But you're in such a public place
Someone is bound to pick you up
And play like you have been played once again
To be sailing through the air
In parks with laughing children
to be occasionally chomped by a dog that runs off with you and leaves you in the dirt
Is that how you got here this time?
The dog beach is just over there
How will we console you when you plastic is broken?
To what level will we offer our condolences and blessings?
Are you worth the funeral of a feeling living thing?
Are you feeling and living just because feeling living things use you and play with you?
The air is your sense
And sailing you will fly
The earth beneath you as a disc of green radiance
And you hovering just above and snatched in a warm quivering beige hand
Then tossed and again
Oh frisbee...
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