North Fitzroy Poetics

I lived too much of 2020 soaked in my own thoughts. As did we all. But no where in the world like Melbourne. And there is no where in the world like Melbourne.
We pupated out of our homes late October after Lockdown 3.0: minds almost as bleary as our eyes after another cold, grey winter.
So, in those thoughts I sought solace from the present in the past, and in remembering, pictured sounds became words.
Most of these poems were written in a flurry as first drafts always should be. Writing is re writing, and that will never be finished, but for now at least, till I change them again, it’s time to release these upon the world outside.