Darwin

If you had to pin me down

Which you will

I would blame it on the heat

It drives one to do

Strange things

Like walking around

In your underwear

With the blinds up

Wear thongs to restaurants

Walk shirtless through

The Botanical Gardens

As if it were a naked

Free-for-all

Expecting shit service in shops

A five day wait for express mail

30 bucks for a tray of lamb chops

Mangos by the box in November

And a bombing by the Japanese

The rest of the country wont remember

Mangroves striating the shore

Black fellas camping

Down in the sand

What could be finer

Than a box of wine

And seafood dinner?

This city exists at the precipice

A frontier town liable at any moment

To fall into the old dialectic

Of what ails us

Will ultimately define our generation.

© shaun patrick green 2016