Poems
-
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— -
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 -
The Bird
By Anthea StefanidisOn the worst days I try on the bird.
I have constructed of lost feathers.
Saturated and dripping its pungent mysteries
into my ears I become a bird in a tree on a mountain of brambles. -
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, -
Moon on a Stick
By Rob Wilsonfor J.L.D.
Try not to breathe.
Try not to walk the highwire too fast -
-
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 -
several matters
By Derek Motionwater to watermark gap, canvas of the tree,
about two feet. toaster’s increased browning
capacity, a result of past usage. so clever.
i have frittered away my time. -
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 -
Distractions
By Liam FerneyI am hoping to kick a Facebook habit
but the monsters are scary and tomorrow
is too long to wait for an anxiety
as toxic as a tax the punters don't understand -
led zeppelin
By Eddie Paterson& great blimps
move through the clouds,
huge grey airships
curl amongst skyscrapers & through suburbs -
Crossing the Hay Plains at Sunrise
By David Falconsky so coppery i can taste pennies
low lit by the sun
the plain stretches its rough gorse
to the edge of the world -
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 -
X-2 Flare
By Bronwyn LangSpring Racing Carnival
wet streets: bright slick reflexive
-
The Argument
By Sam LangerIt is windy out there. Back
home an argument continues.
We could be swimming, eating,
going for a walk, pointing -
satisfaction
By Benjamin DoddsHolding taut barbed-wire with one hand
and myself with the other
I gaze at the ground
as hundreds of shining grey dust droplets -
spanish fiction 2
By Michael Farrellwe were playing a mind game. but there
was a real
attraction. he was bookish,
unsuccessful; my secret -
Sugar
By Kevin Hart(an excerpt)
As warm air sips huge clouds
That fade all afternoon
In Africas of light, -
Birds of Paradise
By Joel ScottLilac eruptions move upwards and
I can't help but think of us. This
is untraceable. Like moving backwards
by words in a phrase. On the return leg, -
Holiday
By Caitlin MalingPerth from above is a cockroach
It sits there, brown and laconic, and
The micrwave of summer can't shift it.
With its suburbs, like legs, twitching intermittently.
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