Published in Overland Issue 257 Summer 2024 · Poetry Cars. Lightning. Rain Dorothy Porter Cars. Lightning. Rain. Your cheek on my hair. Strawberries. White wine. A mess in the back seat. I drive you home and we chat between thunder claps about the fall of Crete. A bare-breasted goddess at ease, insouciant control, holding firmly with feminine hands two writhing snakes. Secretly I imagine loving you like that, my feet balanced apart, hanging on without fear to any pet reptile between us. But between kisses my breath tears like wet paper, holding you in my arms is a tender farce or a blubbering High Mass; I skid on my wrenched heart even more than this old car skids on the drenched road. Cars. Lightning. Rain. When you leave me I watch every Minoan fresco ever painted and cherished drip and burn. First published in Overland 107—1987 Dorothy Porter Dorothy Porter, acclaimed poet, lyricist and librettist, was twice shortlisted for Australia’s premier literary award, the Miles Franklin, and her verse novel The Monkey’s Mask is a modern Australian classic. Her work has been adapted for radio, stage and screen. She died in 2008, aged fifty-four. More by Dorothy Porter › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 18 September 202618 September 2026 · Poetry having a sweetie Gareth Morgan o unfathomable lack! unbelievable luck … really, you wouldn’t believe me my pollen grows in the dark my pollen reeks like bed sheets/br 5 November 2025 · Poetry Force posture agreement Miroslav Sandev The men of Darwin have all taken their rottweilers / out for a walk at the same time. / For our protection. Like Pine Gap: / all those big white eyes that scan / the darkening horizon. / The eyes stay woke, so that we may sleep. / Or so they say.
