Hospital Head
All we do is sleep
Eyes are closed
Tubes are working
Limbs feeling dead
Tears and disinfections
A test for one’s cleanliness
And affection
Feeling like it’s a dead end
Enclosed in a room
Smells of alcohol
View of a Tv, Unnoticed familiar friends
What are we to do?
Lie hear and cry, we ask for
One thing, patience
A holding hand, a friend.











11/12/11 was the last day of Outpost and the first of many days to rain. I avoided the discomfort of wet socks by taking them off and letting my scuffed Kagui shoes take the beating around the famous, ‘derelict’ Cockatoo Island. There was a lot of street art and cameras to go with. It wasn’t too bad.