Just Outside, Blinking The sea is down, flat out beneath a grey dusk as though even the moon has given up calling. People still working, all weather & all-moods - wheelie bins like sentinels, railings straight as bigotry scowling the coastline. One worn-wood sign suggests exercise here. Across the road a blinking dirty light in weedy verge night - TOOHEY'S NEW. Beams scouring the black Pacific - an army helicopter brushes the headland. I fear any man's promise written in neon blue. TOOHEY'S NEW There's a trickier search in wait a harder work than catching the next heated room, just hands out for the promise of the new & comfort of the old. TOOHEY'S NEW Les Wicks |