Customs declaration
1
Beginning our descent with a banking turn of phrase and amusement park views. Arm doors, arm holes. Jingoistic chit-chat in the fouled cabin air. Exiting Economy through the refuse of Business: eye-masks and fine print. Leaf-blowers on Lime St, ear-splitting beautification and warship doorstop. Great lengths to salvage the Lord Sandwich, with much pushing in for the miracle. In lorikeet-green hamlets, wallaby silhouettes are forsworn for cocktail hour at the tech-bubble and ‘Meet the Author’. Heretofore we cut a ribbon.
2
Water Bores, hence attention is drawn to a swimming article or ambling roadside thighs of the lace monitor following a flotilla and the judging of horses. The whole house plugged in to the see-saw of the mastermind’s snore. As far as meringue sunsets, sheep and wheat go, the first sod turned will be responsible. Nature has been most liberal is not just an empty phrase. No overt aching turning vehicle in the night, huge as it is, will be permitted. Although sheep, they dream of greener freedom with an inch of candle burning. Compliments and complaints comprise floats, equestrian and ring events around which agents are turned. Toy breeds with no real parallel to press forward, find conveyance in a purse. A ram changes hands, handcuffed. ‘Don’t you believe it’ is never intended as a question.
3
Vladivostok, Perm: true colour and duo-tone life of mountains. Hello Sarina/ Wowan out the window/ Biloela below/ sapphire views from the loo queue. Press button to receive tissue. Luggage exceeding the limit I had offered her my dress shoes and blue fipple-rooster (mouthpiece in the tail, finger-hole in the neck). A desultory tailpiece all but blown, twenty-seven bones forming a single bum note, projecting avian shadow puppets (the twenty-eighth order of birds) on customs’ glass.
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