by phoenix | Dec 5, 2014 | Poetry
In the first heat of summer 2014 I lost all my words. They fell away from me like scales Or rather were trapped in my head Unable to emerge from closed lips. Touch and gesture were left to me And so, being inadept in their use, I learned...
by phoenix | Sep 26, 2014 | Poetry
A cardboard mock-up of the grassy knoll And route markers along a Dallas road Is an odd toy for a child, especially in 1970s Australia. Little wonder I graduated to 10 Days that Shook the World and Huis Clos at 14. Even less that Seymour Hirsh...
by phoenix | Sep 25, 2014 | Poetry
It’s past time, people. Rise up. How foetid does the stink of corruption have to be? Rise up. How much ice has to melt? How many fires burn? How many forests? How many teenagers must be shot? Rise up! How many journalists must be jailed...
by phoenix | Sep 24, 2014 | Personal
Many years ago, in the long ago times of dish-pan hands and iced-coffee banana shakes with three scoops of ice-cream, a time before gluten-and-dairy intolerance, a time before it seemed I knew anything about weight loss. It was a time of Oak...
by phoenix | Sep 23, 2014 | Poetry
Blank pages have always intimidated me And I hesitate to describe minutiae again Lumps and aches, dull anchor points into limb And earth and stretched muscle when I crave flight Gift me air. Gift me uplift. Gift me weightlessness. Kiss me...
