Tender Callus

talked all night
drank till four
taxi to somewhere
clothes hit the floor

sighing & laughing
ten years isn’t much
again & again &
touch touch touch

so tender he says
like sirloin she smiles
sun too bright to sleep
is callousness guile

yes Francis Francis
there’s no words to say
just take me to somewhere
I’d better not stay

page 17

*

Cody shows Gene, the cook where she works, the ad she’s put in the paper.

Flatmate wanted
7b Hunter St
Sat-Sun
$50pw No pets

—You’re mad, says Gene. —You’re going to have to stay home all weekend and you could get any kind of freak coming round. You should’ve just put your phone number.

—Been cut off, says Cody. —Where’s the pepper grinder?

—Are you looking for a male or female? asks Gene.

—Don’t care really, says Cody. —I just need the money. It’ll probably be a disaster whatever sex they are.

—That’s the spirit, says Gene. —Take that soup now and the fish’ll be ready when you come back.

Cody knows she shouldn’t be so negative about sharing her Flat. She’s taken her desk and an armchair out of the sunroom. There’s just enough room for a double bed and a small chest of drawers. She vacuumed for the first time in about a month and scrubbed the bath. The Woman’s Weeklys are hidden under her bed and a couple of Kundera books are lying casually on the kitchen table. She wonders what she’s trying to prove. She feels her misplaced pride dragging her around the house trying to create an image of a fabulous self-sufficient working woman. She buys fresh flowers. This is exhausting.

—See you Monday, she says to Gene at the end of the night.

—Good luck, says Gene. —Hope you don’t get any psychos.

*