From the place where I live, I can sit and see the ghost of a sleeping giant.

He once ran angry through my streets, beating his bloodied fists against the earth in naked fury, but these days he just sits there watching me watching him, as he grumbles “if I were younger, sonny…”

Across the road, I can see an empty chair in a garage where a man – retired just three years – used to sit and watch the world go by, and dispense advice to passers-by.

He died last week, aged 71, and the street was there to say goodbye to his casket in a crowded hall containing everyone. He made beer, he grew vegetables; his calloused carpenter hands created much of the district.

I know my neighbours.
Some are now in the past.
In the dust. Another died last year.

Just around the corner, in a returned servicemen's club, a few years back, a young man ran angry, his bloodied fists killing three people and critically injuring another.

From my place, I can watch drug deals go down.

I can watch a gang of youths cycle by with stolen computers under their free arms.

Occasionally a feral dog will try and mug you for your fish and chips.

From my bedroom window I used to be able to sit and look towards the naked window of a not-so-distant whore house. But it has closed down now.

My neighbourhood used to have more brothels per capita than anywhere else in the country. We still have more gambling slot machines per capita than anywhere else in the country.

The local six-road roundabout has more accidents than any other in the country.
I've never seen one though.

My neighbourhood chemists treat me like a drug manufacturer whenever I need to purchase pain killers.
Some days that makes me want to run through their store in naked fury, beating bloodied fists against the earth...

The name of my neighbourhood rhymes with “manure”.

Manure is a worthy title for some of the people living in my neighbourhood.

But there is beauty.

This place is circled by a lagoon, an estuary, parkland and a watchful mountain.

I have looked up at the mountain for 10 years now.

But it is almost time to leave.

To become the past, and make a new plot of land my future.