I and this city have our differences,
but they dissolve on melancholy
Friday nights, after the bars have shed
their excesses and hosed the decks,
after the movie finishes, and Brisbane
goes to bed, and everything seems
gentler through a blurred windscreen
and lisping leaves, reconciling you to exile,
me to mindlessness, and once again we
dare to travel hopefully, at least in speech,
and tell ourselves that it's all
hunky-dory in the lucky country.