Monday 3 October 2022

Yer well


You ask me if love is all that matters.

Not this shit again.


It’s Friday night

in Sydney. Damp and windy

and cold.

A rat runs out to nab a chip

then runs to hide again.


In the safety of the bush,

it scoffs down little bites

of its little chip.



Ask that rat.

It gets way more

than you or I could ever hope to get

‘bout all that matters. 







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