TROUT   [4] 

James Norcliffe: [1 , 2 , 3 , 4]
in the food court  
  the power of love first falls 
like a powdery condiment  
all over the grilled tiger prawns 
in black pepper sauce 

its presence in the air 
alerts somnambulant diners 
and they pause in mid-fork 
& look about with widening eyes 
through love-filled shafts of sunlight 

I see their pin-striped shirts  
and button-down collars 
slowly swell with the power of love 

& while they wait the power of love 
fills the whole room as if it were 
a large bowl of fine blue china 
& love sways there aromatic 
spicy splashing this way and that 

then with a dying burst of static 
the music fades into shadows 
and might never had been 
were it not for the young woman 
at the next table dabbing  
a blood-red drip of tom yam  
from the white shirt of her lover 

   © 1998