Christopher Andrews

Christopher Andrews teaches at Western Sydney University. He has published two books of poems: Cut Lunch (Indigo, 2002) and Lime Green Chair (Waywiser, 2012). He has lived in suburbs of Sydney, Melbourne, Wollongong and Newcastle.

strange FM

what the fridge magnets said vast fame and broken sight order reigns by reorderings listen to me stolen time move things and breakfast smoke vents and a bar fight what’s in the fridge: data gems item: some little sonnet weigh …

Posted in 105: NO THEME 11 | Tagged

different / same

spongy buffalo lawn mown short palm beard muttering rust edge sky reach for the orange brick still warm parching and drenching shoe strung high black chip enamel tea gone cool fierce little fist raised girl brought home depthless perception flat …

Posted in 84: SUBURBIA | Tagged

Angles and Marks

You make your mark like this, by scraping the poetry of the future clean of angels’ body parts, or proving humiliation is flammable, by mounting hypnotic spectacles of confidence or holding the head of state rock-steady in your cross-hairs. This …

Posted in 70: UMAMI | Tagged

What It’s Like

If you don't know what it's like you just don't know and even if you did what good would it do apart from developing your character like when a detective reveals how he got those alluring emotional scars: a blow …

Posted in 10: LOCATION ASIA-AUSTRALIA | Tagged

Disencumbered 2

You might have missed your chance to see Rome rebuilt from rain-spotted blueprints and you may never follow the ghost of a caravan hauling silk indigo opium cotton or salt. You might keep forgetting how rhythm is spelt but there's …

Posted in 10: LOCATION ASIA-AUSTRALIA | Tagged


For the first time in my life I didn’t feel like an empty hayshed leaning down the wind on top of the last thing you could dignify by calling a spur beyond which peneplain and then just plain for as …

Posted in 04: UNTHEMED | Tagged


It’s amazing how old some people can get before they even begin to realize they’re going to have to die one day too as if no-one had ever made it perfectly clear the stuff about dying wasn’t just a threat. …

Posted in 04: UNTHEMED | Tagged