Suburb Songs

car doors click closed

midnight driving

whispers from the fig trees

by the river

quiet houses whistle with

gap toothed weatherboards

wine laps at the walls

of my stomach, you drive

all the spaghetti

slurped down, settled

what is this peace?

how did i find this?

mundanity hums in harm

-ony with the

rumble of tyres against

loose gravel

softness swells alongside

the crackling car speakers

i sit passenger side, thinking

of what i have to gain, not lose

for the first time, let the train squeal

along the tracks

ahead, a light flickers green

we head home together