toyota echo

My youngest sister & I, forever aggressively planet-xish
with regards our massive, disparate familial solar system
(there is a sitcom cool about everyone’s interaction –
we only acknowledge connections or cry at the reunions)
we are 8am commuting together to respective workplaces
in Geelong. This involves Australia’s most boring drive,
one hour along four west-headed lanes with immense auction-
group car yards, the furtherest urban outliers and, eventually,
the yellowed Port Phillip flatlands as scenery. You try
(I’m not driving) to make something out of it, imagining
what goes on in lonely highway-side paddocks at night,
whether some starry-eyed wits-end type has ever parked their car
illegally and wandered without a torch towards
the indiscernible horizon. I would want a windy cigarette
after twenty yards & I suspect it would be tough
keeping the nervous shit tingling from your arse. This
one time at school camp, the teachers made us sit
about half a K apart from each other in national park dark.
The first thing I did was piss, then sit down, then laugh
for the required half an hour at how the class bullies
had held hands & cried in response to the task. It was hilarious.