Modern courtship

It’s 5.30am. You and the rest of the inter-B’s netball team are huddled on a coach in the dark.

Image Credit: World Netball

Those of you who have not played netball for an independent school outside of Sydney might not realise what an enormous commitment it is. 

It’s 5.30am. You and the rest of the inter-B’s netball team are huddled on a coach in the dark. High-beam light protrudes from the beast’s nostrils and petals of mist envelop its steely façade. Despite the many layers protecting you – the staticky dress, the sweat-wicking polo, and a tracksuit lined with fleece – the icy midwinter air prickles your skin. 

You are chilly. You are sleepy. You are thirsty. Your tummy is empty and all that awaits it are an apple and a muesli bar, squashed flat at the bottom of your bag. Imminent is your departure – perhaps to Bowral or the Central Coast – and again you are faced with an unsolvable question:

How will you spend the hours for which you will be trapped on this bus? One may read a book, listen to the new Lana album, or fret over their essay on the alignments between The Odyssey and The Penelopiad. Or, one may write short poems, inspired by haikus, that will sit dormant in the notes app on their phone for years to come…

anticipation

a wobbly breath blooms within

stomach aflutter

shoulders. ribs. legs. arms. 

tied together tight, string taut

is tense is terse is

i am endlessly 

taken by your majesty

wash me all away

ceaselessly she moves

never stops. where does she go?

kinetic, futile

my tired little limbs

they’re heavy and they’re aching

i need hydration

it’s overrated

his hollow chest, tired body 

he’ll sleep when he’s dead

restless. sheets crinkle

heart thumping behind my brow

awake. frustrated

skin prickled bright red

sting in the balls of my feet

forehead sticky, stuck

haikus are so rad

get to the point, keep it curt

am I a big nerd?