Black Cat Grey Street

May 1997

Last time I saw you the autumn sun
warmed my elbows through air so sharp the
sky might have been scrubbed clean details of
the Fitzroy landscape vivid in the
pattern of leaves a competition
of crooked chimneys and scrambling walls.

You scratched your shoulder through a hole in
your mauve Tee the swag rolled up under
the table at the Black Cat sitting
beside the bamboo we gave the man
beer-money at 10.04 am
his tom-cat smell - you told me he used
to be a boxer - competing with
the aroma of coffee toasted
sandwiches freshly squeezed oranges.

You put your arm around me to tell
the bad news and after I cried hard
I wanted beer at 10:27 am
so we walked - I pushed my bike - to the
Standard Hotel and smoked in the beer
garden until the sun became cold.
That was on the last day of April.