Barnaby Smith

Brackish Morning

the compass is an untrue weapon enveloped in blustery effect whisper the warning one campsite at a time on leaving – trusting this ambrosial decree as a tap on the womb, the nacreous valley with its simpatico trill bleating rain …

Posted in 82: LAND | Tagged

affirmation of becoming

common idiotic ibis observing vertigo picnics on the dunes sloping long weekends for trends in decomposition an aerial shot: three-eyed houses infused with tendrils grasping busy silence chanted goaded plastic still lives into persons or personhood

Posted in 75: FUTURE MACHINES | Tagged


11.53pm, Crackneck Point, Bateau Bay tankers queuing up and down the coastline sparkling in their sleep they are compulsory distances apart the scene, what we have decided is sorrow as bruising clouds hover offshore compelled by stage directions: sound of …

Posted in 60: SILENCE | Tagged

Studio Portrait

Strewn with commissions and nibbles of DNA this is where everyone else’s attention falls. With such frowsy deformities sits one throwing rhythm to colour words into the mirror defiant and horny at the offensive knowledge of the canvas.

Posted in 59: GONDWANALAND | Tagged