Wednesday, April 9, 2014


In the town where
no-one was a stranger
when one came
they stood out.
A specimen to be examined,
described, named, labelled.
Approached only after thorough inspection
of stance, clothes actions.
Became the conversation starter for the day -
" Did you see that stranger
at the shop?
In torn jeans,
red shirt.
Looked as if he was living in his car.
Leaned on the counter.
Bought a pie and Coke,
paid with a $20 note.
No shoes.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

As I listen for silence

I hear leaves ride the breeze
water hit stone
the tick tick clock
a machine clunk around
two doors down
a chive flower open
splittery splash of bird bath-time
new growth push through air
every hair rise on my cool skin.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

one morning when

one morning when
the clothesline was hung with water beads
the power-line was hung with galahs
I saw
a black shouldered hawk hunched
on a lookout post
a hoodie of clouds pulled over his head

hunting birds grow thin in winter
as reptiles sleep the cold away
and small birds hide from rain

I saw
a grey and white cat
squashed on the highway
between bush and streets
its belly full of natives
clawed from lower branches
a streak of mince under Caution Wide Load Wheels
the head still intact
popped eyes stared in the direction of a fireside.

Friday, March 14, 2014


COMING SOON to this blog a NEW POEM!!
Thanks to all my visitors and commentators for being so patient.

This is not a POEM.
This is a NOTICE.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

september the second two thousand and thirteen

three hundred thousand pound a week for a soccer player
twenty four million dollars a year for a banker
seven dollars twenty five cents for a McDonald’s worker per hour

Thursday, September 26, 2013

hard rubbish

she put it on the verge
mouth set in one straight line 
this was the last of him  
fold up bed where he slept
after whatever it was had 
blown out
blown up
blown away
the hump backed tele
like them — no longer worked
love nest mattress
just looked stained
his clothes
his boots
his shaving cream
book of Australian love poems
back broken
beer fridge with footy stickers
half finished novel
palm fronds she waved
before she saw
he wasn’t going to save her
she wasn’t going to save him

hard rubbish

Monday, September 23, 2013


first light, coffee brews
campers air sleeping bags
over no camping signs