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

If I Could Have a Birthday Wish Envelopes with gaudily printed car… meaningless mass-produced wishes, cheques to fly to the momentary mo… Books instead of love

What road are we travelling? What road do we wish to be on? Is this the road to heaven, passing through the Valley of Dea… or the road to hell with the desti…

There’s a red tinge to the sky thi… and I can smell the smoke in the a… They say the wall of fire is comin… so we’d better get down to the bea… There’ll be no harvest this year

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…

I saw your response to my post on… because my phone dinged as I was w… under the trees in the cool of the… Thankyou for that response that sh… at me from a square of capitalised…

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,

Dearly beloved body that encases me, animates me, is me, as a matter of fact, thank you for being.

The poet unafraid is hardly a poet… but dull in understanding of the power and impotence in his… .? ’?

I said nothing when the trees were… then uprooted, and replaced with a… I said nothing when the birds took… and disappeared and koalas starved… I said nothing, hardly noticed, wh…

Living with constant fears is like red wine spilt on white ca… or trees uprooted from the bank of a river too often in flood. It’s looking backwards

My son’s cleaning up his room and I’m not really glad. He’s cleaning up his room and it’s raining clothes and crock… The washer’s running amok, the dis…