Surfrider


A line of eleven custom-plated BMWs followed by a
Prius. A Four Pillars gin and tonic w/ cucumber
followed by a macchiato

A complimentary strawberry truffle

There are dolphins on the bedspread, mounted on
the walls, decalled on the bathroom mirror

I take a walk along the golf course and find myself
complicit with the sprinklers

It starts raining pronouns

I read Lispector’s Hour of the Star under the awning
of the surf club. She says that soon it will be the
season for strawberries!

Yeah, but it’s always the season for strawberries
in the global frozen fresh food economy

I cross the road to check out the cemetery, but it
lacks gravitas. I eat sunshine for breakfast
followed by a hash brown

Then I meet up w/ Dess and we walk along
the shoreline arguing post-capitalist aesthetics

I use my go-to metaphor of a table. Sure yours
might be flatpacked but mine
was handmade by a friend

Jasper, whose architecture thesis is on the ground,
is on trees instead of timber

As he told me this, the ball he was kicking came on
quickly bursting off the surface

Dess and I reach the point and marvel at the rock
shelf. It’s created a natural weir that makes me wish
I’d brought my camera

We look out around the bend, and from this
distance, the coastline is eroding beautifully

 

Image: crop of Hour of the Star cover

 

Justin Wolfers

Justin Wolfers is a Sydney-based writer, editor and researcher. He has published work in The Lifted Brow, Kill Your Darlings, Fireflies, Cordite, Seizure and Plumwood Mountain. He is a PhD candidate in contemporary fiction and poetics at Western Sydney University.

More by Justin Wolfers ›

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