From a drunken cruise on the harbour
comes a bouncing melody: I wanna
have sex on the beach. Anyone can

see it on everyone’s mind
As the summertime trees nod assent
In the Botanic Gardens,

Their scent wafting up the nostrils
Of skyscrapers breathing in fumes,
Pumping out bucks,

Relaying UV to the ant-sized joggers
Who bound up and down along the shoreline
On sand grains jostling for legroom.

Above them, birds, checking out the goods
Of a small grey woman staring at the bridge,
Thinking: I wanna walk across water

Like sound, as her skin remembers a distant
Prickling, another season,
A sun and a wind that lifts her hairs.

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.

Toby Fitch is Overland’s poetry editor and the author of Rawshock (Puncher & Wattmann 2012), which won the Grace Leven Prize for Poetry, and Jerilderies (Vagabond Press 2014). His most recent collection is Bloomin’ Notions.

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