sonnet one looks like the sea

somewhere between Perth & Sydney, tracing dotted

trajectories,  we check the time & i lean oh/

ver. you disappear from text. the silent window

bleeds light like faux-tragedy; warmth forms plotted


currents of fish distribution & other thoughts

at ever-rest height. inward & outside. i      don’t know

what to make of the confusion. clouds make arrows,

xy symbols coalescing & breaking up fraught


with context bubbles. we had broken gravity,

felt cylindrical casing, structurally other,

somehow unable to split textures & colours.

once, Melbourne was a dawn foghorn, a parody


of distances dissolving exhaustively.

eventually everything looks like the sea.

poet's biography ->