Poems
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Holden HQ Wreck is Summers End
By Duncan Hosethe blue HQ @ Clifton Hill
like a warrior yes an octogenarian KRISNA
who’s dragged himself ashore from the river
tacho. punched in the dash, pink-drugged carpet -
Elementary Chinese
By Eileen ChongFire hung on a nail makes a lamp,
two moons make a friend.
A thing that is not bark makes a glass,
two trees, a wood; three trees, a forest. -
Supreme Abyss
By Michelle LeberIn the voice of Su Nu, courtesan of
The Yellow Emperor of China
At night, snowfall uncovers -
Things Overheard in a Dream, 12th April 2001
By Peter Boyle“Take me to the black woods mumma
and make believe we’ll boogy in the dark.”
In the late summer of anxiety -
The Fan
By Craig BillinghamAre you a fan? the woman said
and then sat down.
I didn't know what she meant –
I imagined she was famous. -
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ON DEMENTIA
By Jessica L WilkinsonThe stoic pupils, the gaze—
The movement always moving of
objects mostly socks and teacups—
The kettle on the stove screaming— -
Capital Limp
By Tom LeeIn the smooth
Drains they emerge
And in the sun, they put
His cars, and his houses, they -
CLOSING TIME
By Sam MorleyI am closing my eyes, because I can’t see it in the dusk,
the poem that is already there.
I am hearing the closing time bickering of noisy miners -
Substance (of things hoped for)
By Paul MitchellCars wait in traffic because they want to.
Tomorrow never comes, thank god.
Cakes start with icing and get better, -
Notes on the River 8
By Adam AitkenVoilà! Slums levelled, wharves, boat ramps,
central planning.
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View from Hvolsvelli
By Corey WakelingThe frozen and the liquid. All its dialogue
in one white plume and one grey plume.
The corrugated vanity across Eyjafjallajökull's
mid-section is not rain-bearing cloud, but the old -
A Prayerflag from Dharamsala
By Michelle CahillI am dancing tonight in the Kangra valley.
Effigies of the demon king Ravan are ablaze
for Dussehra. Thorn bush dissipates in a flare.
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Entrances North
By Fiona HileThe surf club car park is littered with empty
Muscle-testing image in the drum roll
tableau of sheets stripped of servitude. ‘Isn’t
there just a tiny bit of gravity in outer space?’ -
Insomnia
By Elizabeth CampbellFinally, on the seventh night, like a leaf
of the long blue gum, released
into a deep shade from its high tree
spinning slowly as it goes -
PHAEDRA HANGS OUT THE WASHING
By Kit Brookmanthe beauty of boys
in a morning-frost, white
skin running between white
sheets snagged by wooden -
Moon on a Stick
By Rob Wilsonfor J.L.D.
Try not to breathe.
Try not to walk the highwire too fast -
Lurker
By David Prateri know where you're from & why you're here
doing your 'research', just 'keeping tabs' etc.
my stats reveal your browsing habits & what
brought you here, five seconds ago - cached -
Bats
By John TranterIn a freezing attic somewhere in Prague
a hungry songwriter invents Sincerity, but alas,
too early. A decade later, a popular singer,
struck by the intimacy a microphone fakes, -
Fetish Commodity
By Ali AlizadehI used to be brave. Emancipation
eludes me now. There’s nothing real
in what I get paid to do. Rhetoric
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