Tags » Poetry & Prose

Little Broken Strawberry

I remember going to “lager” as a child. Grandma and my aunts and uncles would take me to the summer houses outside of UB during break. 680 more words

Australian Diary

the most fragile of things

she presses the tips of her fingers to the line of your cheek–

(four separate promises of a steady pulse)

–and you’ve never been so afraid of something so small before, never felt the sharpness of this edge so keenly; it’s been so long since you last knew the weight of someone knowing, someone caring, everything she’s holding out in her hands stretching out before you– 27 more words


SETI and the Buddhists offering no help -

Madness and bigger Uber-madnesses, how can it and you keep going on and on in this way, the hell and the hellish weather on your green-screen, you never get any good parts. 204 more words

Poetry & Prose

Ageing fast -

Embryo splashdown onto a maternity nurse’s apron, baby mess, incubator, resuscitated.
Two hands and two left feet, dancing will always be out of the question, a noise from the long grass, in wonder at where everyone else is, rips into hanging cochlea. 195 more words

Poetry & Prose

Family Values -

Dad ignored my shadow but saw my likeness, just before he patted me on the head, just before he slapped me on the face, a Mum-ay looked aw-ay to clean something, so caught a train to a station with a difficult pronunciation. 155 more words

Poetry & Prose

You can die every day if you want to –

Days ending, an own death given, and you will die.
Every day, days die, in an own way of expiration, as a sun goes and a moon comes, they went to you, for you. 24 more words

Poetry & Prose

Forming Sight (Haikus)

A practice in form
Always begins with the eyes
Who else could you be?

I will always win
At a man’s staring contest
My form is in pen. 17 more words

Poetry & Prose