in Haiti
they held aloft
a dead rat
in place
of the president

the dead rat
beside the river
made me feel
homesick

it was not death
that called me
but the smell
of walks along the riverbed
on our way
to the blue hole

kangaroo carcass
in constant deterioration
fragrant December
time lapse memory
of death
and holidays

of summer vast
sand fl ies
and eel!
screamed out like
shark!
as though we were in the surf

black fellas running on water
and each other
to get out
fi rst
well
at least not last

these sunny days
so hot
and me
so far from
home

I am in my own land
yet far from
my country
family
only hours away

this world I am
summoned to inhabit
afar from kindred
tries to make me
forget
or give up

but my Ancestors are
here
in the trees
the breeze through the
grass
even the broken glass
around the bus shelter

Marrickville
mullet in the river
mercury laden
thriving
spared industry
cos’ their fl esh is
poison

this is Bejigal country
I pay my respect
daily
to the old people

whispering
their name
into the wattle
blossom
fi lled air
old dreams carried on
the wings
of forest ravens

the muddy banks
popping with baby mud
crabs
mangroves
plunging
into polluted shores
like digging sticks

the dead rat
smells comforting
I do not recoil
but marvel
at his rotund
body

oh miraculous Creator
even in pungent death
this rat
is but
a Miracle