skeletons. A billion bees
drumming the rest
of life to silence. Through mist, dank light
a cold room wall brought back
stripped of pallets, flesh
of fruit and veggies now steaming
in a pile of January sun.
Another avocado trapped
above my head, the forgotten
dead hanging just below high tide.
While sleeping, the river crept
into Rocklea. Entering cucumber coldrooms
and banana gas chambers. Waterproof Haas treading
warehouse swamp for days, keeping it’s
head up like an instinct. Sensing
rest in an elbow of steel racking.
on a loading dock, spread
across the street, scooped
this hanger back to 4 deg
in a few days
to fill with new fruit.