Things one sees in the Neighbourhood

Pigeons playing in a paved puddle of blue stone
The giant full moon down low, across the park.

Human defecation in your front garden. Brought their own TP.

2.70 pots sold at 9.30am on a Saturdee morn.

A variety of hairstyles to astonish and admonish onlookers.

Folks wearing their pyjamas to the supermarket, and other social events
Folks conducting the major strains of their social lives in the supermarket (some times the one and the same)
Folks pushing trolleys with a notable singularity of purpose
Folks standing waiting for buses of all ages (both the buses and the folks awaiting) and with their best inscrutable faces on (just the waiters, the bus drivers themselves are a different question)

Cliched pantomine drug deals going on in downtown (punch and judy eat your heart out)
At all hours of the day and night: the smell of delicious stir fry wafts on the air: Fresh, stale and ever present.

The clutching, clanking and “whooming” of the footscray to brighton beach bus as it trundles past at high speed.

“sexsri” – the customised car registration of a subaru driving Indian bogan.
“Punjabi” – the graffiti of misplaced pride, shouting out of tune. May as well have written the name your friends call you for all the significance of the action.

“Mall ’s fucken full of fucken drug fucks” says Sores on a leathery face.
He, a man, stands, legs a good stride apart, hands firmly holding fleshy hips and below, listening.
She, watching the brand names on his biceps, and he now using his arms like a push up bra for his pecs …

Corners filled with figures of hard life.
Two men with scarred bald heads: Hard men and a sycophant in front talking, talking endless talking, smoking through his teeth, champing out with his teeth and feet.
cranes in the skyline building the apartments of ruins of the future.

Buying mobile credit via a combination of wonky teeth and can of sweet bubbly – with this the plan is to satisfy some incomprehensible drive to communicate the jumble of slow ideas that come tumbling from behind the crooked teeth.

Vietnamese nana doing Claude Van Damme impersonations for early morning warm up.
Grit determination, passion, and slip ons reaching outstretched hands above her head: all five foot nothing of it.

A strapping dreadlocked Sudanese chappie making socks and sandals look cool. Not many could.

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