David McCooey
Thursday, 22 October 2020

God, the lonely father,
shuffles through the
corridors of heaven,
haunted by angels –
memories of desire,
the source of nostalgia.

... (read more)

My Compliment Is Not A Tulip

Luke Beesley
Thursday, 22 October 2020

- What type of truck?
- A fire truck.

The taper of a cup
sitting pretty in a circle –

... (read more)

For Noting

Kate Lilley
Thursday, 24 September 2020

A creeping association might doldrum
your bullet points and action items
resembling life grid passing then gone
change my number leave me alone
give no ear to charms ...

... (read more)

Actually Existing Australia

Louis Klee
Thursday, 24 September 2020

Pale ankles in the mountains, divergences
on a quarry. We are witness to it
land and witness to it
some fact of further summer
or things a truck driver might say ...

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Same Mind

Brian Henry
Thursday, 24 September 2020

Just before I left sleep behind
I borrowed a series of chords
so I could swerve my way through
the days I saw yawning in front
of me like graves freshly dug ...

... (read more)

Fifty Years On

Peter Porter
Friday, 11 September 2020

Early on, my mind was in reverse.
I read a book the name I thought was From
White Cabin to Log House, and ever after
I knew ambition must go to cancrizans.

... (read more)

'Maxi, goodbye'

Andrew Taylor
Thursday, 03 September 2020

So much activity outside
where sunlight spills across the snow
like cream –

... (read more)


Will Eaves
Thursday, 03 September 2020

Not since I was four or five at most
and in the first of many striped tee-shirts
have I been this close to the flavour of safety.
I’m walking into town again, the child of hills.
You bought me fish and chips for lunch, my own
adult portion because I asked for it, in Evans’s
tiled restaurant, the Alhambra of takeaways.

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Dorothy Porter
Thursday, 03 September 2020

Waiting on a reeking strange
     railway station –
then the dead-quiet but crowded
     night ferry.

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Judith Beveridge
Thursday, 03 September 2020

      Rain bubble-wrapping the windows. Rain
falling as though someone ran a blade down the spines
   of fish setting those tiny backbones free. Rain
            with its squinting glance, rain

... (read more)