At Bondi before you drowned we had plesiosaur & chips

The day wheezes in and out

A forest fall of rain

The sky molluscs

in recalcitrant insubordination 

I demand the colour blue

You do not submit

At your nape

The vinegar

Of Friday evening’s fish and chips 

As if that were

In butcher’s paper

The transparent stain of sunset

Fear is a bell shaped curve

Crumpled, thrown away

The pierced chrome centurion of the bin

A sacred vessel, overflowing

Love will always break

The small bones in your heart

I think it was a plesiosaur 

In the distance, swimming