Summer for sinners


Summer days in the badlands

So far from here, and yet — like moth to flame, that alien world of drought and indifference. Where days are so bleached by light, they're burnt in my eyes at night.

An abrasive scrubland of parching wind and ultraviolet radiation; A tinderbox of accelerant and the fear of phantom smoke; Where fire sired eucalypts, wilt in midday sun; And browning leaves are falling but Autumn is not calling...

Out there is the Eastern Brown and the red-striped — black, snake and spider; Out there meat ants strip carcass to bone and the six-foot rat and bird are bipedal; Out there swarms of fly plague the shade and cicadas sound like a siren.

Out there in the ever, out there is peace, for people are not there. And so like vampire I hide in lair, until crystal stars we can stare. Such is this summer for sinners. Beware, beware we convicts out there.