Concrete against concrete, concrete ascends from earthworks into elevator wells, ‘inappropriate’ apartments. Forced joins are blatant, to be dressed up in fancy grilles, quiescent cladding. Bends of white eucalypts planted nearby mark the formal nod to a former world, which all too soon will post-date concrete. Their shadows climb up the beige intrusions. Concrete poems of warehouse and extension, their simple message is plain on first read, in contrast to the surrounding flowery Victoriana, the ornate practicality of Federation. February moonlight, abnormally bright, has a field day illuming freeway pillars, station portals, housing blocks – concrete reality of our 24 hours.