The most powerful man in the universe

After a night of poetry then mediocre hamburgers in a shop with terrible music Superman and I retreated to The Peach. I was cold so I crawled under my doona still wearing my clothes which led to the surreal experience of flitting in and out of sleep while Superman read me excerpts from reviews of the movies "Masters of The Universe" and "Prayer of the Rollerboys" between singing bouts of "Flash! Aha! Saved every one of us". A different kind of poetry.

It ended suddenly with my decision not to sleep in my clothes like a trashbag, not on a Wednesday night. Ablution solution and now with clean teeth I type. I have notes and thoughts and stored words. I counted glasses and made table shapes in my mind. There were imaginary shards of flying glass and I pondered ways of busting through walls of metered rhyme. These things will wait, you will wait, until tomorrow.

Eye for an eye and a baby for a baby

I am throwing out my socks, two by two. I'm wearing them first. I'm wearing socks all day then coming home and throwing them out at night. It is the best thing I have ever done.

Grizelda is in the kitchen mixing foul lemon mixture, she means to drink nothing but water and foul lemon mixture for five days. The Spatula sits on the lounge with her head peering out from under a half inflated air mattress. She's been blowing it up for a while now. Every now and then I wander down the hall and see how she's progressing.

I'm sitting in my room chatting idly on Fspazbook with Superman. The cat sits in the window sill. Its a still and ordinary night in The Peach except for my mind. Its clicking through gears and finding the right speed. At last I am beginning to be calm about this cursed course I am doing. I do not enjoy it, I resent it and despise it but now at least I think I can do it. I don't like churning out these boring pointless posts with half a crazed eye turned to my textbooks. I might have to reach some kind of compromise.

Callan Park is melting in the dark

Today gravity cast a wide arc and it was I standing slow and strong at the centre. Globes described in symmetry. I was neither pushed nor pulled by unexpected tides. Yesterday was different. Yesterday I hurtled up and down the Blue Mountains. I watched my mother stuff her letterbox with rosemary and Rita crunch a slow continual crunch in a bid to stop the vomit.

Last night tipped on the edge of disaster. I made it home at ten to six, a ten minutes before I was due to be collected by Superman. I was harried, hungover and discombobulated. I placed my handbag in the hall as the phone rang, it was Superman, "Arrrrrrgh" was the first thing he said. He was running late so I sat on the edge of my bed to think about which tea cup to use. It would have been sensible to walk to the kitchen, switch on the kettle, warm the pot, measure the tea and begin my ritual but I sat on the edge of the bed in yesterday's clothes.

I woke suddenly in a panic, it was pitch black and I was wearing my shoes, it was ten to seven. I'm not sure what happened but my confusion was at an all time high. It took several attempts to successfully open my bedroom door and stumble into the hall. I was babbling and incomprehensible, Grizelda seemed amused and I was further alarmed at being the one watching someone else be calm.

Superman arrived and I attempted to explain my panic and confusion but my eyes were half closed and I was distracted by his hair which was, for the first time, differently arranged. I'd been sleeping with my shoes on, this seems important to mention.

In the end there was time for noodles before the band but things were not right. Superman was folding and unfolding himself, the levels were off and the drums were falling apart. The car battery went flat, I don't think this is because I did not say goodbye to Spencer, we had to phone for roadside assistance, I do not think this was because I bought an apple pie for a dollar. We had to wait for half an hour, I do not think this is because I put the unfinished pie down on Superman's cheeseburger wrapper and then watched while he ate it.

I stared from the passenger seat of Superman's small car while a drunk man turned his wheelchair in circles.

This is tired and unmoving. This is less than a simple laying out of then and then next. Superman and I drove around for half an hour, as instructed, to recharge the car battery and it was not unpleasant. I almost bought firewood but this was after Superman drove into a dream and a conjured dinosaurs that turned out to be a serial killer. There was sandstone and waterfronts and dull lights shining for the isolated and broken. Callan Park was melting in the dark but batteries prevent things from stopping.

It would have been a disaster but there was a gentle acceptance and calm good will and in the end Superman and I had tea in our cups and cushions at our backs, we'd had dinner and seen the band. We'd sonared our way across the Inner West with the good mission or traveling time. After the shower, after Superman went home, I sat in the rare comfort of an empty head, my sheets were clean, my hair was clean and the confusion was gone. I made one good decision then wished for rain.

Empty head

That's me.

Empty head and heart and fridge and shoes and mind and bowl and cup and bank and bottle and the tiny plastic containers in the bottom of my kitchen cupboard, the one left of the sink but not under the kettle. Anchor without a ship. Boring and bottomless and eternally here. Everybody cuts their lines, except me.