#901 - what rot

25.vi.22

901

3.175

what rot!

Dubuji boardwalk

place of spirits 

for a forest of words concerning the forest

each skin less separate

more touch, pass through

balcony fungus

the rough and the smooth 

woods inward, track slipped out 

unbroken lines and join these dots 

mossed buttresses, lost footing

sedges and paperbarks strangled 

an entrance is an exit

hole in the top where it all pours through 

gap for the sunshine too 

still underleaf 

and in the bole – 

hollows where who hides?

everyone is up for it, reaching 

matchbox bean vine 

nights of the spectacled flying fox 

rattans grapple up 

metre a minute they pump 

termites cover their tracks 

twirly in a tangle too

sharp sides of day 

now and then the human waft of alien aftershave 

ask – are we of this organism (?)

will it sting?

will we brush away?

frogs edge 

and hear them find their green 

shallow rooted 

topple in a gust 

all hung up 

for a sculpture of sorts 

crazy writing in air 

and under, delving 

none of this for us

the largest leaf falls into abstraction 

the whole of this world is falling 

it wants our inattention 

in a forest of the rain 

where my book is falling apart 

at Cape Tribulation 

Daintree