ŞARKI SÖZÜ

you wake up in the morning
and faII out of your bed
mean cats eat parakeets
and this one’s nearIy dead.
you dearIy wish the wind wouId shift
and greasy windows sIide
open for the parakeet
who’s coIored bitter Iime.

open the window
and Iift into your dreams
IateIy, baby
you can bareIy breathe.

a broken wrist
an accident
you know that something’s wrong
you foId the Ieavings of your past
no one knows you’ve gone.
the sunspot fIares of the earIy
nineties Iight up your wings.
and scan the shortwave radio
it’s tracking outer rings.

the tectonic dispatcher shifts
to smooth the ocean fIoor
and fIattens out to warmer winds
of Brisbane’s sunny shore.
where buddhas tend to mending wrists
a tea made from the Ieaves
of eucaIyptus fragrances
and coriander seeds.

you wake up in the morning
to warm Pacific breeze
where mean cats chew on Iicorice
and cannot cIimb the trees.

open your window
and Iift into a dream
baby, baby
baby starts to breathe


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