moon


Poetry and Music

Thursday, April 8

Purgation



Ground down and piled up,
Waiting
In a back lot paddock just off the highway:
Great hills of white salt,
Remains of an inland sea
Waiting,
To be shipped onto some supermarket shelf,
Contained in a small plastic shaker.

These interrupted a vision:
Torn white khadi
Fresh blood flowing along the tear;
Vision upon vision impressed itself and
White-stark salt hills
Cauterised the wound.

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