Avalon

A woman and child
he’s two to three
sitting directly behind me
at the terminal
asking lots of questions
as a child does
inane things
about the plane as it taxis in
about how tall the people are
to be able to get into the door
‘up so high’

she hugs him and snuggles
making me uncomfortable
why? He’s just a kid!
It’s natural to be that loving
it seems weird
’cause I know nothing of it
being affectionate
she’s so affectionate
I find it overwhelming,
threatening
but to her it’s normal

his name is Mohammed
now this I find unusual
he looks to me to be West Indian
his hairstyle Rastifarian
and she’s middle European
why name the kid Mohammed?
She wears no head scarf
what is the situation
between her and the father?

Airports

It always amazes me
how people manage to get there on time
to stand-by,
to get on a plane
and actually fly
there’s so many permutations and combinations
so many factors
that mean you might miss the flight
a traffic jam
a missing taxi
so many things
and some do.

But if you count
the two hundred fifty
maybe only one or two go missing
Sometimes they’re called out
in traffic announcements
‘If Mr XYZ is in the terminal
Please go to gate Y,
your plane is ready for immediate departure”

At the gates we sit
like restless cattle
filling up the moments
with sips from drink bottles
and vending machines
and small operations
that have a monoploy
on the corridors
every time we fly
there’s a new one
encroaching on the walkway
ready to burr your transit
with sandwhiches and drinks
and offers of wine

You stand in line
with the flimsy ticket
it flaps about as they try to scan it
then into the capsule
you’re locked down tight
if you’ve been clever you’ve reserved your seat
somewhere near the front
for a fast exit
with carry on baggage
where you walk down the stairs
to a different city atmosphere
walking on the apron
while the engines are humming
past those dormant silver stairs
that are still ringing
with the clumping feet
of other passengers
getting close to the exit door
as aviation fuel begins to fill the air.

Airport train

Stupidity
No return tickets for the city train
so – $14.70 one way
but no discount for loyalty!
14.70 the other!
Slipping down now
with the perambulations
of the escalator
and almost imperceptible whiz
glints of light reflect
on the silvered rails
from overhead lights

The announcements are clear
not too many echoes
what was it like during the blitz I wonder?
lumping about my 25 kilos
on back and pack
should I have weighed in first?

people with cases with wheels
make that hollow plastic sound
as they slip over the cracks in the tiles
7 more minutes and I’ll be under way
to circular quay,
via central

looking at those tall white sails
I’ll peruse the goings on
just another passenger
just another tourist
watching the ferries come and go
checking the waves
around three I’ll board
the Parramatta Cat
and go gliding over the harbour

CIRCULAR QUAY CAFE

Ferrys come and go
the Friendship, the Sirius
background music filters in
just the high frequencies
the hi hats and the guitars
a cappucino machine grinds beans
two girls to the right
talk about office politics
and things that matter to them
looks can be deceiving and
you know you’re the real deal
tea costs 3.50 your not paying for the tea
you’re paying for the infrastructure
your paying for the view the scenery

The Manly ferry – the Queenscliffe
the smell of the sea colours the air
Sydney harbour bridge
full of criss-cross lattices
caterpillars of people crossing the top
doing the bridge walk
the trill of the diesel’s in the air
as we slide across watery grey green
sun obscured behind clouds
a globe of white
past a private marina
I still don’t get how you build bridges in water
how you get the foundations
down so deep?
grey light smoke almost vertical
from a chiney
against a yellow washy sky

Parramatta

Sitting in the Port bar
Parramatta
A fellow with dark skin
a bit of a Mugabe
talks to a woman at the far end

the water from the Parramatta
tumbles over a breakwater
Later I learn it’s the spillway
between the fresh and the sea water
it also has a fish ladder, allowing them to climb
‘and dive in the briney side if they desire

The conversation is just out of reach
I want to lean my ears in closer
to see what these two are talking about
It has those rises and falls
that African way of speaking English
sounding educated
she doesn’t say much

some heavy clouds are advancing overhead
heavy doughnut clouds
it starts raining very hard
sitting on the edge of an awning
drops are pattering hard against the canvas
like when you’re camping
the rain flicking in harder and harder
moving back and back
retreating to stay dry
The plastic seats now have mercurial gatherings
pools of liquid that move like quicksilver

“So that’s where I’m at”
I overhear as they move closer
to shelter from the downpour
where might that be I wonder?
Is this a business meeting
I try to gauge the flow through his
black square rimmed glasses
“most of them are people”
“You got a head start”
Is she a consultant?
a celebrant?
why meet in this otherwise deserted cafe
near a ferry stop
maybe this is just the left-overs of a long lunch
and social networking