Thursday, April 29, 2010

Not Intended to Hurt

Another Friday arvo
the sun strikes four.
Small birds
make sharp sounds
as they kill.
I sit in soft light
my back aches
my front aches
tea is beside me.
Traffic streams
not bubble/gurgle
but rain sodden thunder.
Trucks and utes
and buses and bikes
and vans and cars
and twin cabs
and and and...
An orange headed ant
bites my toe
and I let it.
I ask,
Why you are biting me?
It stops.
As the sun falls behind a tree
hits the glass table
shatters light into my eye
sprays warm on my face.
twenty eights yell
across a faded sky,
I talk to myself.
I am loving hating you, I say.
I want to drive us both
over the cliff,
off a bridge,
into a life taking tree.
How would you like that?
I smile.
It is hard
to determine
a response.
No one is here.
No one is there.
No one is anywhere.

Monday, April 26, 2010



Thanks for this Liana,

Invisibility has its consolations
You see, perhaps,
the folding of skin
You do not know
the rich and secret
dolls within
I’m every age I’ve ever been
while you are merely
young and thin

Liana Joy Christensen

Saturday, April 17, 2010


Friday, April 16, 2010

Clare Valley, South Australia

Blenheim morning
magpies territorial battle cries
swallows whistle in the hunt
plump thump of roof dew in downpipes
galahs! galahs galahs!
blue winged parrots argue in squeaky toy voices
distant dogs make no entry statements
suspended water spheres flash blue/green/red/orange
light cipher from the lawn
tall gums rattle leather leaves
leaf free mulberry a grey scribble
wattle birds misbehave
feathers graze air in aerial dog fights
crows deliver caw caw messages to far off relations
where are you bleat of lambs
over here response of ewes
smash of blue sky against green curved horizon
wood smoke scented air
breeze shivers in the agapanthus
moss settles the slate stairs
climbing native and windmill embrace
rose covered brick dunny
sunlight shafts the wood shed
curved stairs beckon beneath the pepper tree
lead to a military march of ants
along the signed back gate

Friday, April 2, 2010


aircon sucks
the curtain
against the window
time on my hands
time in my head
time is lump lead
in these white sheets
patched with cum
white walls
door white
in the mirror
my hair
clouds white
blue curtain sucks
against the window
in the mirror
sucks from
my eyes

Thursday, April 1, 2010

name calling

cunt too powerful
prick does not cut it
weed fits
is a second skin
fits tight
just right
noxious weed