Today I floated in the ocean
I let it take me where it wanted me to go
Which wasn’t far at all
But I gave in anyway
Then I shat, showered and shaved and did my hair and put on a dress
To go over the road to watch a footy game I didn’t follow on telly
because: small town
Most days I wear baggy shorts and loose cotton teeshirts
because: old religious ladies and teenage boys and cultural sensitivity and sun smart and heat
I am a man here in the desert
I am practical and I am hard
I think that’s bullshit sometimes when people talk
I cover my flesh and let my leg hair grow
I drive around listening to gangsta rap and Tina Turner with twelve year olds
I avoid eye contact as I hand over bags of food and mumble sorry for your loss
I told my parents I was taking anti-depressants. It was a weird conversation.
I don’t even want to do a good job anymore, I just want to do it and then go home, wherever that is.
I don’t give much of a shit about anything now
I can’t think of things to say
I can’t pretend I’m happy to see people in the morning
I am not in my real life
In the city, I used to think about what I wore almost every day
I would even do my hair and strut around walking to the tram in time with the music on my iPod.
But up here I have seen some zebra finches and two early whales on morning walks.
Things are generally OK here I guess.