Australian poetry
-
Two-in-Four
you were born from destitute sigh forged battle treaties of resignation death upon death you are the hope of a bouquet repeated annually by our graves a signature in the making the world already had ended that is the terrible… Continue reading
-
Paralleleia
somewhere in the ebb-flow of our own two gazes years ago i gazed deeply for seconds into your eyes you, i think, erupted in a storm of joy and I left, shrouded in a robe of butterflies Continue reading
-
All Hearts
All hearts – animal and human synchronise twice a day – this causes the globe to revolve pumping curved longitude along how we use tools and build how the arc was traced out It makes day turn to night holds… Continue reading
-
Aqua Vitae
The blue glass bottlesflipped open for cup, for lip, for easy blue,clinking just The green lined grid/ graph paper /floor design/ storyboarded/ by instrument/makers … Continue reading
-
Entre Dos Aguas
Mer mori “redour til treasury” raise on the head death herding herald of soundhorn logicked wail steps on these weaveyards, as beholden-trapeze, growing wheat of indigestible soil, carcass and shit: feed for a military of birds flocking to a maison… Continue reading
-
Rabbit on the Promenade
in homage to js harry Umwelt of responses and in the substrates below a silt of muted action. There are inaudible gasps bouncing in echo chambers from delicate atria to delicate atria in a soundproof dugout which pre-empts any sour… Continue reading
-
Very AntiPoem
Esto no es una poemaSolamente lineasQuebradas de prosa yVerso por parafo Continue reading
-
Autoparapsycholinguistics in the Morning
Long ungainly words might be used but not yet So I’m ok in myself once I’ve achieved reasonableness I start thinking about my behaviour Around others What would I prefer to be in that Context? I don’t want to be… Continue reading
-
A lo stilo Nerudesque
Drunken mermaidwoman of wave and spumeyour wet hipslung with kelp your salt eyes stung red withmonstrous nude wantgaze at my noise for face your belly curved like a bowarms sleeved withprimordial sandstorso with the consistency of blind clay I cannot… Continue reading
-
The Machines In Our Ghosts
A cough then retch and hack chain axe ache catched wind up teleplasm small clockwork rings jangle squeak creak… Continue reading