By Jaya Savige
Dense night is a needs thing.
You were lured
in a luminous canoe
said to have once ruled
a lunar ocean.
The 2 am soda pour
of stars is all but silent;
only listen —
sedater than a sauropod
in the bone epics
it spills all the moon spice,
releasing a sap odour
that laces
us to a vaster scale
of road opus.
A carousel of oral cues,
these spinning sonic coins.
A slide show of old wishes.
Poet Bio
Jaya Savige’s collections include Maze Bright (Vagabond Press, 2014) and Surface to Air (University of Queensland Press, 2011). He teaches at the New College of the Humanities, London.
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