The deceased are buried vertically, the hills so steep. The only flat is the small quay and the mine entrances. When the mud collapsed the deep shafts they realized they had gone too far; the trees felled for tunnels and houses and fire. A cry all along the ridge lines, a moan which sent the … Continue reading Last Light on Two Penny Hill
Sunsetted Clauses
She told memy hips could carve ham,a girl I loveddead early on a Sunday morning,a car in a suburban chance rollover the edge of Hailes Street. Langy knows we still blame him.His life of laying bricksthe string line’s quivera darting mouse,the memory of water in hayfleeting scent of flax. He’s mixed only cordialthese foundation decades,head … Continue reading Sunsetted Clauses
A Siren fails Before another’s Lament
It is unwise to speak to the dead. Kit had delivered the 100lb coal bags to the drop point past the steel rails for the whale boats. The shunting clipper was anchored offshore beyond the reef. The shallow landing at low tide also allowed the bullocks to cool down and eat the kelp. The cattle … Continue reading A Siren fails Before another’s Lament
Scattered People Pantoum
Faiz Ahmed FaizSpeak, your lips are free/ Speak, it is in your own tongue Everything and not a thing is lost to lightthe unheard call waits quietly for dawnblack is not a colour but primary by rightits truth a whisper of account forlorn The unheard call waits quietly for dawnspeak, your lips are free of … Continue reading Scattered People Pantoum
Early Winter, June storm
No electricity. This failed proof.Wind and ocean boom in from the south.On the shallow reef waves churn counter clockwiselost for hemisphere. The sea shreds dreams,Scandi furniture swept beyond the point.The great night settles wraps coast and land,for forty hours a stagger of centuriesturns on and off while tide and air detonate. A fontanelle sun illuminates … Continue reading Early Winter, June storm
The Big Gas, 1973
It was a two-storey terrace. A small front square of garden, a struggling rosemary, standard rose, and a bay tree in a pot. Victorian tiles on a rectangle of porch. The biggest room upstairs, once a lounge, faced the street with windows to step through onto a veranda. An older guy lived in that one, … Continue reading The Big Gas, 1973
Triangulation
Between hospital cemetery and rubbish tip find me in clamour I have called down swans a saltpetre of full netting let swing a while longer the cardiology spinnaker all squelch spine as low as the watermark I remain ungraded Sift letters words and Carats find me in pages I have swum outside flags a recidivist … Continue reading Triangulation
Opaque the day, wherein she lay
The city flickers off. Although, of course, some lights are eternal. The canal bends lamp posts catching an invisible current. The sky has a pantomime moon, orange, fallen on the stagey horizon. Cats, foxes, an occasional possum, glow in their own way – eyes out, about, lingering. Jonah fingers the cash in his pocket; … Continue reading Opaque the day, wherein she lay
Three Chord Morning
Just becauseI’m on my kneesdoesn’t mean I’m down I could be praying, hell Just becauseI can’t affordyour lazy opinion Doesn’t mean I’m poor, no Just becausethese hands hold dirtdoesn’t mean they’re clenched They may be cradling, yes Just becausein each of them a life lineholds a garden’s sanity Doesn’t mean I’m rising, yetFirst published in … Continue reading Three Chord Morning
Jesus, They Must Think I’m Dead
we should do something about pain managementmy doctor Eileen concerned my talon handswhat was my good kneeand the dull ache in my back need My Body is a Temple OK? pressing the green pensioner buttonOld Bill comes in the reception doormoves slowly a square rule on a caneacross and out the waiting room slider a … Continue reading Jesus, They Must Think I’m Dead