As we approach the hill we can smell the salt water alread… imagine the sand, coloured like li… twinkling in the sun. We can just hear the surf,

Sleep hovers over me, lingering at the ceiling with dark whispers. I reach out with my mind, my restless body

The fall of the leaves of autumn carpet our path, making mud like blood underfoot. Or is it blood like mud

By day, I live this plain life of cups of coffee and café sandwic… with ham and cheese and sometimes… if I want to be a little risqué, I ask Paul or Paula (yes, that’s…

Fay Zwicky wrote in her journal o… “I see the poet as a seismograph o… I had considered more arcane expre… over the years, such as the poet a… but I rather prefer to think of my…

There’s a new world unfolding as the sun sinks in the West. I once thought a single man could change the world for the bet… He can’t,

It looks like a poem at this distance, sure, but it looks like a poem with a bad haircut, given by someone in the midst

I have been a long way from home a… I was born in the Royal Hospital… in Randwick, Eastern Sydney but home was in Casula, in its So… I was raised among the smell of ma…

rancid rantings/burning anger/stin… fear/hope—strobe—love/abhorrence—t… nihilism coffee/whiskey/cigarettes—no comfo… plans with no point/guns with no c…

I saw the plane land, confidently,… bearing its burden of precious hum… I saw its torpedo shape, its mothe… its excited colours on the tarmac. I saw it taxi gracefully to a stan…

The chill in the air has caused th… the lizards to spend their time sl… on a rock that barely warms their… The kangaroos quietly pick at the… and the koalas are more sleepy tha…

Mobilised from Puckapunyal one su… The walking dead and maimed do not… In sharp lines of saluting slouch… Just march away clean chinned and… No thoughts here of smokes hanging…