Inside amongst lights
tied around scrawny necks
a funky group
bawls out songs
to flashy couples
there to dance.

Mikes are licked
soundz boil
the floor
slips sweatily.

I slide along walls
as black as night...don't
want to be seen
by diners as they
ram in lumps
of marinated chook.

A drunk has seen you
naked on a black horse
riding up Queen Street
in front of a Ferrari.

The Hilton is big...but
finding you
is like feeling
for your navel
in the dark.

My hands touch
everywhere
the hills the hollows
the lakes that spill
in the wet season
and fill the natural
contours of your body.

If I have to go underground
to splash amongst the shit
the debris the carcases
of the city to find you
I will. You come

only once and I want
to make the most of it -
the sun the moon
the spits of rain
which fertilise the tears
that run from your eyes.