He sees concrete pylons set like giants’ bones
in Wagners’ yard as the train glides forward.
These carboniferous fossils will be transplanted
into flyovers and urban bypasses, strengthening
the new body’s industrial backbone. Perhaps a
coal port terminal to cough up the country’s lungs.
Peeling paint bulges, green cysts dot sound
barriers where teenage identity has been deleted.
Where there should be striped marsh frogs
are megafauna effigies of striped marsh frogs
clinging to a bus shelter’s wet mass. The tips
of their fingers magnified as defibrillator pads.
Orangemen repair railway bridges, their hands
explain how this is done in a secret sign language
reserved for the hard hat tribe. Flattened,
nineteenth century brickwork is smothered
by cement’s grey butter. Iron will outlive most
of us. Stenciled honeyeaters perch on a rock cutting.