Farewell 17 Collins St

behind the neon kryptonite
of the minarets on little gilbert
flashes the thin glow of forgrounding red
from adelaides international terminal
the palm trees sway imperceptible
like shaddow puppets
framing a deep blue theatre
kissed by venus and saturn
on a summers night
my bar fridge purrs
oblivious to our pending partition
most at home ive ever felt
so private
so intimate
so me
my claw marks
already shred tomorrows floorboards
bruises paint tomorrows knuckles
tears dampen tomorrow's walls
the garden i planted has turned black
for tomorrows wake
boxes of possessions spew out
upon the carpet in protest
tomorrow burns
the move slashes
at my identity
its time again
to reconstruct