the house of water
I crumple the sea in my dreams wake
to the shallow pool of my head
I should go North lose weight catch up
with the other divers hear words slip jelly-like
from their lips I grip the front fence
of their houses the gap in our lives
their kids watchful as gulls on the shoreline
sprinting for the beers
I’m better off alone the pills the bandages
still the scream sliced from the motor bike
the skin from my face
going down now no dotted lines to link up
fish glide by open mouthed
one skin
About Alana Kelsall
Alana Kelsall was born in Hamilton, Victoria. After completing a degree in languages she lived in Japan for five years. She has published a collaborative book of poetry, True North, which won the 2005 FAW award for a group manuscript. She is now working on a novel about her life in Japan and completing a diploma in Library Studies. In her spare time she likes to go to the cinema. She lives in Pascoe Vale South with her husband and three children.
