Floe

In abeyance, the body sinks

into the weeds for weeks; the mote

doing roundabouts in the moat of the eye

ceases to trouble or seize the soul, flattened

like a rubber sole; deadened eyes

in headlights fade to dust as roadkill

reeks under tyre-tread; tired limbs in limbo,

flags that flop loosely in the wind; the faculties

lose their facility, nothing within arm's reach

or cheek by jowl; no howl from the invalid mouth

stuffed with one insipid mouse; the toes,

unable to tow the two, flat, pinned-

and-needled feet; too heavy like the brain

in a skull full of rain, an ocean liner

at the bottom of the world, wedged

in a fat ice floe.

(previously published in Meanjin, 2007)