p.eerf

on a lighter note on abrighter note. on a less of a rant

walking through the hills from a last bus of ten pm, the moon up there and then some of it on the bitumen, spilling out like something shiny escaping to the floor. there are quiet birds which make sounds like moans and there are still crickets, louder now for the lack of day noise, theres the occasional frog and as i walk by the long grass a rustle that at least i know cant be a snake. this place is a quiet conundrum, a sweet humdrum, hohum. theres a vapidity to its slowness but there is something more, a place is never justwhat itis, it is what you are. i am quiet and slow, a vapidity in my stride, i am quiet at 5pm on any given day butfriday. i stare at strangeness out of the corner of my one good eye. i like to wear whats comfy from 1989 and i take pleasure from days that are warm. theres good in me but it doesnt like to draw attention, the beautiful bits dont have public access, street life is frowned upon, if theres anything under 16 in me then it will risk arrest if it shows its face after 10pm. i am serious when itcomes to order, maintenance of quietand the idea that others are never quite as clean as me, as warm as me, as innocent as me. oh perth