The Obvious

The figure of Pawschien walking in the heat-haze
Jacket over his shoulder in the Sunday dock-side
Quiet cavernous empty warehouses
Blowing metal thunder and
Contorting under the sun
And the bay beaten like a feline coat of steel
He stumbles in the sand
Of Slater's beach and turns smiling
He's a plain guy
Black hair down like a thatch white teeth
Glistening black eyes smiling
Born in the old town grew up in the streets
Know nothing of his past
But have a vision of him younger
With a desperate face
Blade jumping in his hand like a snakeknife
Don't know where that comes from
I follow him
His hometown was built wooden and tall
And as the dusk fell
The streets became paths in the forest
Light bulbs swinging
In the fluted air of Aviary Hill
Great cages alive
With honey coloured birds and song
Like a warbled sadness of a lullaby
Walking on a thousand years of eggshells
I take a draught of cold beer from a clouded glass
And look around the room
Pawschien talking with brothers
The men have self-made tattooed grids on their forearms
In which there are Sanskrit letters
They tell me that all that they know is the obvious
And that if I stay there with them
Maybe I will learn it too
Suedehead girls with grey eyes and clear skin
One has a crescent scar on her cheekbone she looks at me
With an air of smiling anticipation as though she is expecting me
To recognise her at any second
Something turns inside me like a tickling thirst
Others are watching me too
Same expression
Then look away laughing shaking heads
It's ok you'll remember
Back in the streets thescent of the human night seems to hold me
Steps muted by onion skins
Old women sleep curled in the roots of houses
Coiled around bales and bundles of fresh herbs and babies
Walking the wooden tunnels out of town all I can think is
Remember your way back here
As in the darkness all has vanished
Remember your way back here