One morning he discovered time. Hairs had started to grow through ‘The Sound and the Fury’ on his shoulder. He had reached that point where available space had expired. His business shirt was buttoned at the collar and the wrists. He always wore socks and trousers. Only he and the tattooists, Charlie and Veronica, knew … Continue reading Collected Works

Getting the breeze off the guttermy grandmother called it,we made armadas of sticks and balloonsto sail down the cramped street when it rained. Her black and white turncoat mate would singas he broke our fleet on the tripping up path,returning to his sentinel letter box of discarded brickhe carolled to embrace the milko’s two pints … Continue reading Dover Street, Cremorne 1959

Cater is sixth generation.  The first messages took six months. It is now two hours. They are close. All droning work finished; the machinery locked away in the preservation bay. The maintenance schedule has its own pace, a litany of processes now closer to manual control. The most interesting event is the daily air reading, … Continue reading Short History of a universe in fold theory

wind whispers hurtentreating new cold earth,you should have stayeda secret azure from afar the alloy of eyes flickerover this shrouded continent,soot to the arteriesof coal mired government smoke, is written under skin there is no birdsongbut for this dry retch of trees,still these ten hours of rainunchained as rust now quietly clear murmurs of fonts … Continue reading Nobody reads poetry anymore, Unanswered Prayers

The paddocks have changed.A praying mantis trellisof snow peas covers banked soil.On the other road side,early silage is wrapped garishlysited like spilled marbles.White clover counts in threes,the sky is coffee grounds.A Norse thunder hooves its way;the pickers clasp satchelstheir non las lift off and spinnaker.Rain calls them to shelter,in utes the station plays Orbison.Holiday traffic … Continue reading Southern Entry Leongatha, October

(In this world/love has no colour –/yet how deeply/ my body/ is stained by yours) Izumi What remains struggles for the hand grip of language, the shake of letters, the whirly get you moment of transparency in this ever expanding universe of no departure intersect indifferent to the eternity of loss, and how he draws a profile in … Continue reading Leary Presents at the Writers Festival

remember Ramonhow we laughed at the deliriumof the pokey seat in the laneafter the readings at La Mama a promise is a wading thingand we held a hand each when you made me writeall seven days to week a monththat stretch of gluten by a wonky lightthe way words fall to combine a separate secret … Continue reading slow the express

Damian has two deer heads. They roll around a little in the boot, but he makes the drive down to the only taxidermist still working. Bryce comes to the door after several knocks. He has a stubby in his right hand, his granddaughter in his left, and a roll your own expiring at the side … Continue reading Getting Stuffed in the Valley

CalfSHOCK cold rainfalling snort breathe can’t feelwhere what used to be hometongue licking pushing hard wobbling underneathstagger fall tumble shove awaystretching up mouth want to cling onground not sure if the dirt is bloodor smell green of sometimes inside now outblack whack of wing and thud of kickand noise harsh then soft and wet to … Continue reading If I was a new…