Blue Hills 1

. . . . dragon shape clouds over the national capital
Malcolm Fraser’s feet stick out the end of the bed

thick forest around Brindabella

eel-shaped reservoir & visible snow-caps
then white cloud
NOTHING NEXT 400 MILES
continuous cricket pad

warm bread roll
apricot jam in foil rip-top package
black coffee
– avoid weird milk substance
in thimble-shaped container

hostesses in casual uniforms
disappear into bombalaska
a huge Mark Rothko painting
whitens &
turns into dumb Olitski

then it clears outside Melbourne


Poet's Note: September 1980

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