Published in Overland Issue 204 Spring 2011 Main Posts Misinterpretations /or The Dark Grey Outline Jill Jones I move through a slanting, footpaths erupting roots through bricks near the mad old bus stop. I used to know what I was thinking, now it’s a field, inside, is it green, or grey water, horsing, gridding, heavens bent through the fleck. Sometimes I wonder if I’m drinking the wrong water, the other day I read I had a sort of degree, but I ain’t, no way Hose-Bloody-Zay. Please, I-am-not-a-doctor, I’m too unfashionable for that. Even in Sydney when days get cuter than cop cars, as the city train smells of its electricity and cut-up vinyl, makes you want to chisel rocks with letters, makes you think, placing As while breathing Hawkesbury sandstone, oh gritty gritty something, don’t let go. But from Greenhill Road I can see a Dark Grey Outline, gums on the Toorak Gardens horizon after rain pins on Portrush, windy, juggle juggle, that’s the bus tyres. Tickets are eaten, baskets savaged, cars dinking in line. It seems average but sounds pushy out the window, my eyes scram down choosing the wet leaf blown onto a white roundabout. Something I learned when I was young, shape is serious matter. I am not what I’m supposed to be. Light is spring silver and escapes my language, in the next lane ‘fragile goods’. Outside a North Terrace carpark is the The Ha-Ha Arrow, pointing white blue charge grips, tinker tinker bus blows money, odd jangles of student housing, arrivals not quite fusion (Go Backwards). The second lift won’t stop at the fifth floor, ‘it’s worth reporting’. What, corridors? In here, it’s ice white as carpet, closing time. If you don’t approve, or burn, ‘therefore’. Perhaps I am Missing Pages Out Of My Life. I’ve always been flaky, lost and shaky, but never ‘ponderous’ over my territory, that takes planning. It’s always been weather not geosophy (that’s so fashionable! yeah?). I’m delicate, sandy, unknown, please, or ‘to not know’, falling without finding. But what am I thinking, of giving up the desk, going off-road, gravelling, dirt thrash? Why not, given the green’s mixed up, weather rattled, promises running off leaves as prediction pouring through vents. The creeks are high, snake tongues, feathers, water calls, absolutely and briefly, tomorrow forks but for now full cold moon and wrestling night. I have dreamed green tiles, walls, gaps, dirty grassy penalty signs, curves, yes, finally, pink ankle and all this air, all this. If I’m not what I’m supposed to be then why all this certainty, how do I escape its cackling old Sprache? Night in Frome Road is there at its hour, cold erupting through asphalt, sight and feeling mashed with my flaking alphabets. Jill Jones’ most recent book is Dark Bright Doors (Wakefield Press). She also co-edited with Michael Farrell Out of the Box: Contemporary Australian Gay and Lesbian Poets. Her work features in The Penguin Anthology of Australian Poetry and Macquarie Pen Anthology of Australian Literature. © Jill Jones Overland 204−spring 2011, pp. 116−118 Like this piece? Subscribe! Jill Jones Jill Jones was born in Sydney and has lived in Adelaide since 2008. Recent books include Wild Curious Air, A History Of What I’ll Become, Viva the Real, which was shortlisted for the 2019 Prime Minister’s Literary Awards for Poetry and the 2020 John Bray Award, and Brink. In 2015 she won the Victorian Premier’s Prize for Poetry for The Beautiful Anxiety. Her work has been translated into Chinese, French, Italian, Czech, Macedonian and Spanish. More by Jill Jones 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?