Blood

We step light,

Seedpod in hand.

Find where the water is shallow,

As not to wet our socks.

I wear platform boots,

the water only laps at the soles.

My brother is in red sand-shoes,

they soak through immediately.

“I want to go to space,” he says, “it’s all I want.”

He sets a seed pod into the current.

“Space isn’t real,” I say.

“The universe is a cardboard box, and the stars are holes poked in the top so we can breathe.”

Mercury eyes roll back.

“Shut up, I really want to go.”

“But there’s no trees in space, or cats, or ladybugs.”

I sit under a gnarled banksia and let the red speck crawl atop my finger.

“I don’t care,” He says.

The seed pod has reached the waterfall, it flips and gets stuck on a rock.

“Not even about the cats?”

“Not even the cats.”

The mouth of the storm drain gapes ominously.

I stare into it’s shadowy maw,

Echo echo echo echo...

The black hole spits out my cry.

It looks like space.

I prefer the leaf-brown water,

Rushing red.

That’s where we put the seed pods,

They always get snagged before they can reach the other side.

My brother’s hair,

Reflecting wattle sun.

“Can I borrow your knife?” he says.

“To carve this stick.”

“No.”

Rainbow lorikeets screech from the tree behind us.

A butcher bird swoops low enough to cut me.

“Why?”

I stab the eucalyptus beside me, red sap seeps out.

“It’s dangerous.”

I give the most ominous expression I can muster.

He laughs pink like the galahs soaring above.

The flushed horizon spits at us from behind a chain fence.

Nosebleeds lay at the bottom,

Waiting.

Screaming.

A long-legged sailor,

He sits on the concrete gutter.

The commandments written in neon pink;

Go home

Hags get cut

Fxxk U !!

K+A 4eva

A little white cat leaps forward,

Face glued to his hand.

“You sure about the cats?”

He glares red.

“I’m going home.”

Brothers walk up cracked pavement.

I just might make it.

He jumps over the leaves.

He lands in space.

I kick a red pebble,

It also lands in space.

They can float together in orbit.

I bet they’ll be best friends,

boy and rock.

Inseparable.

I like this earth.

Especially the cats.

The bugs also.

And the people...

Some of them anyways.

I also like when the sun is this low.

Clear aqua to navy gradient.

I can see my face in the blood moon.

It looks better from here.

Mainly though, it really is the blood.

Black and red like lava.

Crawling through the streets.

Sticking to my hands.

It won’t come off.

That’s ok, I like it there.

Blood red eyes.

Blood red tongue.

Blood red ears.

The storm drains fill with blood.

Red dirt, full of clay.

I can see it through my blood-coloured glasses.

Obviously.

Can’t you see it?

We reach the driveway.

I like this house.

On this earth.

I like this blood.

I’m quite proud of it really.

I look into my mother’s scarlet eyes.

“You have fun at the storm drains?”

I did actually.

I always do.