“I cannot find a single word
not a one, and my heart,
like a stroboscope,
“Still, I started life as a half a packet
of Tim Tams, so I have no reason
They were strolling by the ocean,
beneath the never-ending raindrops,
crunching crockery and broken bones
beneath their boots, way on down south
in Melbourne town.
Silvinha looked into his bloodshot eyes,
and offered a little unrequited advice.
“All you need to sort yourself
is someone who believes in you.
Someone gullible. Naïve, even.”
She shook a cigarette out
of a packet of Charm Slims.
“They’re old, dried out, better than nothing.
Why didn’t you portal to the new earth?”
— apocalyptic intermission —
The earth was pretty much abandoned
after the Sylvan Apocalypse,
which began at a hair salon in Sylvania.
Too many hair stylists
started too many hair dryers,
and the Swirl appeared,
so-called because it did.
The Swirl recolored the world
in shades of melancholy dreariness,
as if the earth were orbiting
in the solar system’s basement,
all on its lonesome.
“The sun above the new earth
is brightly luminous, a refractive
complication when snowflakes fall
inside my eyes. As luck would have it,
we’re always in the shade here.”
Beneath the clouds, one edge of
the monochrome sea lapped
on the fragmented remnants of Melbourne.
The other edge was hidden in the mist.
He sighed in slow motion.
“With the constant weather,
neither one thing nor another,
my memories have faded.
“In the days before the Swirl,
the rain would come and go.
It triggered reminiscences
of sudden storms in childhood meadows,
and when the sun appeared,
of ectoplasmic gardens blossoming
“I think the Swirl has taken something
from me. Something that everybody
has, so obvious that no-one speaks of it.”
“I must admit, I felt the same
before the Swirl began.”
Silvinha nodded thoughtfully.
“I may be able to help you.
A certain self-awareness
is all you lack—the knowledge
that you’re still a half a packet
of Tim Tams.”
- Tim Tams, trademark of Arnott’s Biscuits Holdings
- Charm Slims, trademark of Souza Cruz
Silvinha’s Garden, made with the visual evolution engine; still from a video work-in-progress. Or in regress, possibly.