Bronwyn Evans

yard—outskirts of Geelong

 

on hot days they turn

the woodchips

guard against the blaze

 

decomposing in your chest

the heave of workmen

and your plaits

falling from the shoulders

 

in the stir of bark it is hard to smell

your signature scent

 

 

 

 

surfers paradise

 

after Fiona Hall’s installation, ‘Line in the Sand’ (2011)

 

the coral has been sprayed to preserve its lustre

from your balcony

loops of fluorescent tube

the letters form a name

something you didn’t know you needed

the main strip always alluring

in darkness