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David Prater

 
Cars 
 

 
 

surfacing breathless
in the peaceful domain
from the tunnel like dogs
a sax's sporadic coughs of sound
beneath these great figs spread their roots
like fingers digging into sand or dirt
or a bridge sinking into memory
 
now the cars come out
green water sloshes -
a bell rings suddenly
     in alarm
then stops
          another grumble
Jazz
 
you stencilled it on the page
i saw eternity written on the floor in chalk
as the train plummeted towards the city
the lines looped, joining like belts
my buckled notes & letters
 
Cars        spluttering
shade & sunlight     wavering
in the astonished green water
like your words
 
      & Jazz
 
domains of sound
a moving ferry
 
& someone walking past.
 
(for Bruce Beaver)
 



David Prater

David Prater is a Melbourne-based writer. His work has been published in «Hermes», «Voiceworks», «New England Review» and «Cordite». He is currently writing a novel about the invention of marzipan.

 
 

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