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A handful of snow turns into a cloudshaped like a camel, then a weasel, and briefly
 troubles Carlton’s sidewalk restaurateurs
 before cruising on to Port Phillip Bay
 to ruin things for the weekend sailors -
 or is all this just a wish
 projected from the forehead of the cyclist weaving
 through the traffic outside ‘Readings’ bookshop?
 
 Soon, he says, he’ll return to his true vocation:
 icing complex jeremiads on a wedding cake
 so the young couple on top of the confectionery
 get a bit of a fright before the gin and tonics.
 
 Right now he’s
 bouncing off a silver Volvo as it makes the turn
 into the driveway of ‘Gino’s Gents Apparel’ -
 first you hear the thump, then the car tyres
 crunching to a stop on the gravel made up of
 countless chips of genuine Carrara marble.
 
 
 
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