Hamburger stands at the side of a motorway
of straight grey lines
exhaust fumes – cloudy hues that smoulder.
The sun drops without a care, the weather
out there, hanging in the air
amongst TV ratings and chart run downs.
Everything is connected by wires and plans.
I need those Kodak images to remember
scrapbook page pictures pasted down on frayed edge paper.
Outside, blueprints of a childhood tree house
carved on a party table scattered with
paper plates, half empty cups,
The garden tikki lights attract fireflies at night
when the kids are asleep
and we’re outside watching stars,
sitting on cedar, searching for UFO’s.