PROTEACEAE
Satan’s Riders
well we might think our world is dead with visits from the devils these white-men who came with their guns of hate yes the one’s who came as men of God came here to face us with their evils bringing …
Nightwork
Conveyor belt wriggling into action, cries rubbish rocks rubbish rocks the machine breaks floodlight, its flash a stingray covered, uncovered. The bulldozer rearing— pandanus bows with a shake dissolves drone tyres. From the rocks and rubbish one kid naked, thick-haired …
Nether
It stood, sweating pages of ash. _________ Stretched days stare from stone and grass. I run into their light, regretting everything. _________ My fingers hook and unhook. Listening to voices hover up the wall and long bottles of flame explode. …
The Vanishing
They hung me upside down by the tail, molecules starched— those Irish trackers, old-timers. I was tribal, a trophy locked with rigor mortis. They forced my abysmal jaw, my cough worthy of attention. I would make no apology for stray …
Ode to PolesApart – Tracking
So-long the old sweet dreams of night breath now trapped in chest-locked-tight all corset-robed and body-probed she swallows back the dread … taste bitter-burning-fear and haunting the terror in her gut forewarning memories on her body etched on fear the …
Harts Mill Projections
Hot February-dark summer’s still Old Harts Mill potent site – then along comes r e a Harts Mill remnant 19th century flourmill five stories strong on the banks Port River I am small at the wharf’s edge here across the water Kaurna campsites Glanville birthplace and home to Lartelare keeper …
At Knowth
we are all just passing through this place of tabernacles and tombs scripted in a language we can no longer read do the concentric circles carvings freeze the breath of your sentimental heart? are the zigzag lines accounts of storms …
At Giants Causeway Northern Ireland
Lets falsify the census to topple the popular And drift enmasse to Burrup Peninsula With pride to protect the petroglyphs whatta we got to stay home for? eating snags on toast ‘cos we got no chops fish and chips on …
Remnants
(Gippsland Red Gum Plains1) I. Yeerung Bush Reserve A grey downy bird hops down the yertchuk to look at me as I climb through the wire fence on the boundary of the badlands into Yeerung Reserve. She hops up and …
Milk and Honey
What would have been the poem for you has become an over-riding sense of the day – taking it for granted, as one does, with its drives, its houses, its office – all the non-specifics by which looking back, a …
At Glendalough Ireland
What is this obsession to tourist the dead? I can’t understand if it is to prove A history of belonging Or a pride of invasion. The rapunzel tours have failed To pierce the blue velvet of sky The graveyard is …
