When I was a kid I lived through a cyclone. We were safe and it felt like huge fun with the dangerous weather screaming outside. I remember my Nanna complaining that she hadn't escaped the Bolshevieks to perish from an attack of wind.
She waits in all the silence in the dark inside the library
A glass of Russian tea, lemon, cloves and greybox honey
She gathers to herself, humbling her frame
She recalls my beam when I opened my new plane
A Stormovik, it’s Bolshevik
But as it’s only plastic we will live with it.
I had to stand in silence by my brothers in the barn
Before their bones were broken and concealed l was gone
Russia galloped from us as we paced our way ahead
We who fell from titles through the canyons of the dead
Ooh-wah Althea can you just destroy us
When you’ve come so far?
Dad exhausted snoring he’s been all around the yard
Canasta in the library sisters, brother must discard
Mum empties the fridge cooks what will soon sicken
I curl beneath the table, kerosene lamp’s stinking flicker
Althea, here we are
Listening to the ocean scream like Anastasia