Published in Overland Issue Print Issue 198 Autumn 2010 Main Posts / Writing Disquisition on Home Ryan Scott A fly kindly punctuates the table cloth before moving to remedy the syntax of a wall, a banana, a door knob … my lip. And the sun is more presence than detail. Unlike, say, the dark which remains a tease and knows its place. Light here invades lines. Colour has no room. My hands confuse themselves with the sand but not the trees; too dry to weep, they can only wait. A magpie gargles the air. That bird is the one fear from childhood I keep for comfort. Still, it’s more intelligent than most creatures. Pollsters should ask for its opinion, while grammarians should study where that fly lands, see if it finds words for its pedantic self. You and I would argue over the significance of each position. Sorry, you’d say, ‘You and I’. Maybe, we should take this inside. Ryan Scott Ryan Scott lives in the Czech Republic. His poems have appeared in a number of journals and websites in Australia and overseas. More by Ryan Scott 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 First published in Overland Issue 228 11 November 202211 November 2022 Main Posts On the last day of Subscriberthon, our amazing online editor gives you one last (very good) reason to subscribe Editorial team What's in store for the last day of Subscriberthon? First published in Overland Issue 228 10 November 202210 November 2022 Main Posts On the second-last day of Subscriberthon, our favourite editor-duo give you reason #1002 to subscribe to Overland Editorial team What's in store for the second-last day of Subscriberthon?