recurring dreams

Just as me & Caz are left bemoaning the Big 4 Caravan Park,
the hilariously persistent Gideons,
the blue vinyl book of local attractions like
the sausage meat pizza we got
& scampered to scoff in front of
the city news, the threat posed to her Birkenstocks
by the unglamorous Bass Strait tide
& the big broken-off rocks beachcombers need to climb

the shore of the Med is stone, she said

So there are still millions
utterly blind to the cynicism
espoused by us who had all this as kids:
Commodores between each family cabin,
the drive from Melbourne to yr bit of ocean
not exactly that long but a cinematic marathon,
photos of flywire doors & dynasties of four,
boredom & worldliness left to future generations.