92 Weeks, on a lead

lockdowns ceased, January 2022

92 weeks, on a lead
tethered to the wood, tin, glass and asbestos
that gives my clan its need.

Time not to pass the mail carrier
or fly no further than the ferry
the senses encased in the all-too-familiar.

92 weeks, on a lead
By Order or some greater power
synapses require some other feed.

The closest to an escape that can be made
are green leaf volatiles
appealing to you; through smog, they wade.

92 weeks, on a lead
Mountain Goats, Parker & Simpson and sex
only partially smother a subservient greed.

Vehicle loaded with quiet angst
plans diverted, a trip to make
desperate for road, paddocks, sand banks.

After 92 weeks, on a lead
and 80 minutes of silent road tripping
open the door with anticipation, not speed.

Within a crack, enveloped in inputs almost forgotten;
salt in the nose,
surf in the ears,
radiated skin,
and unblemished eyes,
flushes out 92 weeks of growing perish, on a lead.

Cameron Tout lives in Melbourne. A father of four with an Honours LL.B. from Victoria University, he is currently a law firm practice manager with a background in workers’ and motor vehicle accident compensation, public liability and common law damages claims. With also a First Class Honours B.Sc. majoring in biotechnology from Melbourne’s RMIT University, he has carried out pro bono writing in respect to newly published research regarding agricultural and soil science, farming practice and the future of food production. “A science communicator”, says Cameron, “once wrote that we should send a poet into space to describe the experience better than any scientist or engineer could, to describe our world, in the most beautiful way possible.”

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.