the scene at Jalan Nibong July 2002
by the sweating edge of the sungei Dungun waterway
not far from the tiring town centigrade centre
a fisherman casually casts his line and hook
a hot bright light late afternoon glow
the muggy muddied weary water
ambles under the barbed bridge to enter
its final kilometre or so; punting past the forlorn, famished factory
that once pumped palm oil, many moons ago
then, breasting by the jungle, juxtaposed by
the town’s rough past sell by date outskirt
in the end, collapsing at the exhausting estuary
by the broken breakwater’s hem
where, on pale green wooden fishing boats, they wait
watching for the evening tide to flirt
then take them to the bream infested eastern sea
for the grouper night hunt mayhem
