From My Notebook

by Martha Landman

A year ago I dreamt a girl in a red bikini,
Of no fixed abode, took refuge out of

Wedlock. She dashed for me where I was
Nursing my depression at the back of the bar

I understood wild life, I spent years in animal
Conservation camps; here I had no user guide

I took her hand across the table and swallowed
Our encounter was brief; at ten o’clock she was dead

The idiots around us, in a stir of humanity,
Backed away from the blood patterns on the floor

The moment, eerie and odourless, spread like a chain
Letter: the cop’s writing was curved, single-spaced

His young passion hell-bent on a double episode
His steel caps shone eternally; the Keep Australia

Beautiful-guide in his pocket seemed irrelevant
Her beauty dwindled, compromised her reputation

Adrenaline pumped wild with possibility, my breath
Collapsed at the indiscreet shake of my shoulder —

The whole in the door doesn’t match, I heard
My wife’s voice in rich aroma: “Coffee Dear!”