Poems
-
All the way from
By Fiona WrightSometimes a reorientation.
A different face to the sea,
sometimes you meet a city, neck bared:
they say that nothing has happened here. -
Less of You
By Tricia Dearbornfor Kerry Leves
Your tooth-grinder’s ragged grin
is still so you
I’m surprised to learn walking’s -
Wollombi
By Berndt Sellheimarriving sudden
down goanna tail curves
a stoneyard o shipwrecks -
ghosting the ghetto
By Omar Sakrfor Steven
In their third floor brick flat, the one tucked into the asphalt folds of Warwick Farm,
past El Toro motel, down where the winding road straightens out opposite takeaway
tucker, my grandparents were rebuilding Lebanon, and no one seemed to mind. Every -
Behind Orana Takeaway
By Rico CraigWe’re out of the rain, hunched around
a feast
five dollars worth of chips
ripped open on the concrete, -
What Ingrid Bergman Wanted
By Ivy AlvarezBecause the river is never still enough to reflect the sky,
I want to stay. I want to say
to strangers, who say I love you, it’s untrue.
The mirrors of their eyes only blind me. -
Magpie Song
By R.A. BriggsNo carpet snake ruffles
our sofa-soft wattles;
no eagle, no dingo. We’re mostly
snug, smug, and suburban. -
The Arch
By Danny GentileIn the beginning my words will arch
like an eyebrow or a wing. Then they
will offer a fevered commotion of atoms
to resolve back into harmony as I resist. -
Icehouse
By Sarah-Jane Normana google search yields no images:
just the random upchuck
of search engines which
both surpasses and disturbs -
North of Moony Point
By Berndt SellheimIt’s like we don’t even notice the chatter.
Like the river is enough for us, no mind.
1.
Driven all summer -
Tilt
By Kate LilleyFonzies Fantasyland at 31 Oxford St
(now a disappointing IGA)
opened in 1979, next door to Patches,
a few months after the Ghost Train fire -
Happy Wagga
By John Muk Muk Burkean overview
We’re happy—right?
survey says so.
Flowered parks, -
-
apere amp— (utation)
By Michael GiacomettiIf a tree falls in terest …
an old caterpillar man dies.
Before I died I woke up
screaming. I was dreaming, -
South of Greg Johns’ Rhythm, Glenelg
By William ByrneAs we packed and left the beach I saw
the valleys you both left below your towels
cast in the sand, as if a Henry Moore relief
was left waiting for its pour of bronze. -
Tragedy at Surfers' Paradise
By Ian GibbinsStrangeness brewing, an indeterminate to and fro,
afloat between brazen towers of lofty ambition
and seductive inaccessibility, between the west,
(high tide mark) and east (low tide), slipping away. -
Along Terrigal Beach
By Brian PurcellNeeding more cash to get the fish
I walk via the beach
dark cloud, fat drops of rain
seagulls and some hooded terns -
The Hadean Eon
By Joel Ephraims“Consider the adhesiveness of things
to the ghosts that prized them…”
– Anne Stevenson
-
July 13th/14th Sydney for Ken
By Pete Spence1)
Sydney saw Perren entrain to Taree
& adventure Terry doing 1000 lashes so
i'm staying at the Great Southern Hotel & not -
