In Port Augusta

And it's you and I
a tinned radio
on the bench
at the bus station
in Port Augusta
South Australia

Your face falls in and out
of shadow
the late afternoon sun
beats the roses
to a bow

Wickets
fall in Perth

While a train crashes
In London

Short wave seduction
folds the world in two

And we are heading north
to a new heat
that may burn us to cinders
come midnight