Bronte walk

I never was a beach walker Days warm down Tamarama But there’s some­thing about the edges of cliffs And the walk between Bronte and Bondi Exer­cise spaces and wooden beams Winds call­ing me to jump and me Barely res­ist­ing. I climb over...

shape changer

you call your shape from thin air change in an eye-blink dream-haunter, it’s you I’ve seen nights, pad­ding down forest corridors. My soul calls to you, my kindred My pack. My body shudders As you pass and our eyes lock, Your yellow animal eyes, My...

Poems of strength and suffering

These desic­cated moments flake off my skin like so much overtime. My hands are dry and cracking, peeled raw and papery My neck my back my eyes I walk slowly down long tramlines in dark­ness with lights behind catch­ing up and winds blowing Down too...
Childhood pictures

Childhood pictures

^^ A few days old ^^ Aged 1 with Mum ^^ With Great-Grandma & Grandma (click for full photo with 4 generations) ^^ Aged 2 ^^ Aged 7 ^^ Aged 9 10th birth­day – new bike! Aged 10 out­side Nan’s flat  Aged 11 on...

Manic in the night

Up at Wood­ford Fest­ival, Queens­land, Aus­tralia, in the last days of the mil­len­nium, the energy rose as people breathed deeply, pre­par­ing to hold our col­lect­ive breaths as the pen­du­lum swung to the summit, to hang there motion­less moment­ar­ily before...