The plane landed.
He filed off
lacking emotion,
a common trait.
Dad missed
my solo.
He misses everything
while he’s working
away.
Mum and Dad
gathered us close
for a family meeting
to drop the bombshell
that would blow …
A city
A country
A nation
Moving
out
of
town.
I blew
my
mind.
Interstate.
Promotion, he said.
To me
it was demotion.
All
the
way.
Just when I’d made the lead,
just when I was at my peak,
they didn’t give a damn.
Pack now,
think later.
Removal truck
loaded.
Car
full.
Ripped
from life
as I knew it.
Nine
hundred
kilometres
in our rattling car.
Too close.
Too long.
Enough gum trees.
Enough countryside.
Let me out.
Take me back home.
Let me go.
Before
I
spin
out
of
control.
