a plain voice maybe?

2:47am awake even though I know I shouldn't be - even though my eyes ache and lashes stick together when I blink. I'm going back...home...I said it again today, and didn't mean here. I've mumbled that word to myself only a handful of times this past decade - on a Greyhound sliding in at dawn, glimpsing the CN Tower and now flying in a night and seeing the long twist of the Thames, the squat gold spike of Big Ben...this time round, back here, in Oz, I've felt a stranger - professionally, socially, deep down more foreign than I ever have miles and miles away and I don't know what that means...

it was oh yes

to fix you on this earth again;
unsex me, grail my heart
and bury it in a thousand
years of mysteries for
architects and polymaths to
goad each other over -
only then unleash me,
face-melting, replicant
wrath of that testament
god, fired over 40 nights
and you'll see, what I see,
her burning still, alive
dark, white skinned
peeling - lovely and terrifying
and all mine again