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

I am finding I am going home if I haven’t in some measure found the landing port that is in sight of my true and original self

After the years of that and that and Goddamn bloody well that, he rose again. His skeletal frame and sparse hair

After an incendiary time when deaths and injuries have bee… so regular as to be almost unremar… after such a time as that the total possessions of a good nu…

There was little blood, which came… After the initial acrimonious terr… by which the boats were stopped the men (with accompanying women and children) were dismembered,

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…

It was the only swing in the park… as you swang on it, iron rasping angrily against iron. This one felt the edge, the seat vibrating slightly as you…

The grief was a ball in your chest… a tangled dirty weave of fears and… not appropriate to have yet, as if they would be a self-fulfilling cu… Each long, drawn out day was

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,

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…

Can a poet raise his head from the… these days? Can he take in the com… Or would he only be able to say, “the world is too much wit… They all seem to say the same thin…

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…