sharps (pot au feu)

i am sit­ting in a darkened cinema rolling a spiky metal ringup and down my fin­ger­s­press­ing in sharpto stop myself scratch­ing­sigils into skin again it’s his­tory          soup that has been sim­mer­ing­through generations…

Drifting

It’s the week­end again and the rain lashes the windows.I’d had some thought of weed­ing the garden, but the wind­Has other ideas. These arti­fi­cial dis­tinc­tions we make­B­etween work­day and rest — we’ve been home for 63 daysAnd one blends into another. I could have…

The 6th Great Extinction

There are no platy­pus under the bridge again today. It’s the fourth week in a row and we all ask each other Instead of hello, “Seen any platy­pus?” — hope­ful And each time, it’s “Not today… not for a while…” None of us know whether it’s sea­sonal, but we all fear It’s…

POETRY

Paper and dust

Paper and dust

Their shelves have always held mys­tery. Resist the urge to touch — cloth and paper and paint. I am close enough to breathe in Catul­lus and all his earthly urges, now sealed and almost eru­dite; So many spines here, leather and lust, dirt and dis­tress. From Alexandria…

Numb in the whirlwind

Numb in the whirlwind

I stand, arms out­stretched as everything i know whirls around me Smashed into drift­wood and debris by the tor­nado of cir­cum­stance They say justice is blind but I can’t help feel she’s blind­folded right now, Held to ransom as random injustice rains down on us — and…

Unspoken

Unspoken

Inspired by a Tumblr post I now can’t find… if you recog­nise the story, please con­tact me! There’s some­thing about scar­let cush­ions and 1940s jazz, Dark bars and tiny crys­tal gob­lets filled with cloy­ing golden wine And a prom­ise of desire that draws me in every…

Precious

Precious

These are moments that you treas­ure, just sit­ting of a sunset, Shoulder to shoulder as you remin­isce. And whether it’s Those memor­ies of women’s decisions, the baby borne or the Jour­ney halted, the intimacies and the viol­a­tions, or whether It’s gasp­ing hysterics…

Raw

Raw

(With thanks and grat­it­ude to Robert Borden) 1. 2017 was a good year for fear, a good year for scream­ing Not like some other good Amer­ican years but it slid out of A year of celebrity death and tele­vised suf­fer­ing that we were all Only too happy to see the back of And…

Stories

Seattle, home of grunge

Seattle, home of grunge

Went to Seattle for a hand­fast­ing (friends of Doug’s). He took photos of the hand­fast­ing and all that jazz. I saved up my camera work for the next day when we went explor­ing the city and espe­cially the Exper­i­ence Music Pro­ject, which I’d first writ­ten about when it…

San Gregorio

San Gregorio

Last night, Doug and I took his new toy for a wander over the moun­tain, on wind­ing roads through red­wood forests and oak and some­thing called cha­par­ral (which I’d never heard of). We even­tu­ally fol­lowed San Gregorio creek down to where it met the sea, watched the…

Burning Man!

Burning Man!

Photo evid­ence of my first Burn­ing Man. More photos after the link. Art people on the playa. These are flip books to make poetry with in the Center Camp. Art cars: this one’s a func­tion­ing steam-pro­pelled vehicle. Another amaz­ing art car: a Vic­torian house on wheels.…

Gaudi & the Font Majica

Gaudi & the Font Majica

For whatever reason, I didn’t diar­ise the Gaudi or the foun­tains, or the amaz­ing chocol­ate shop, Cacao Sam­paka. I did take photos though. ^^ The Angel & the Devil in La Rambla ^^ Gaudi liquid archi­tec­ture ^^ Font Majica ^^ Font Magica, lights & music ^^ Like a…

Exposure

Exposure

So here I am on the other side of the world, and I walk into the Insti­tute of Con­tem­por­ary Cul­ture… and there, on a poster, is a photo of me and Simon and Christina and Cath­er­ine naked in Mel­bourne one rainy morn­ing in 2001. Of course, you can’t tell it’s us,…

Politics

Place

Place

There used to be water in Cali­for­nia; snow­melt rush­ing through rav­ines to coalesce laugh­ingly as lakes and lagoons and other summer indul­gences. That was long away and far ago, in some strange before time when the land wasn’t riven with cracks and the heat had some…

And you are listening

It is 10.40pm in Paris and they have taken host­ages at the Bataclan It is 11pm and some­where on Face­book a kid posts: “they are killing every­body. one by one.” It is 4pm in Mel­bourne and my friend is giving birth to a little boy named Clancy but I don’t know that yet.…

Another rape in cyberspace

The Char­lotte Dawson case, which has now res­ul­ted in her hos­pit­al­isa­tion, says a lot about the way that women are treated in social media spaces and the diver­gent tac­tics that are used to address the issue.

I’m a feminist and I support Wikileaks

Whenever I’ve raised the com­plex inter­ac­tions I see around the arrest of Wikileaks founder Julian Assange, I find myself mired in defend­ing my pos­i­tion. If I say I sup­port his work and that I wel­come the new world where gov­ern­ments cannot col­lude in…

Baxter Detention Centre Protest, Easter 2005

Baxter Detention Centre Protest, Easter 2005

At Easter, it has become tra­di­tional to con­verge at the Baxter Deten­tion Centre near Port Augusta in South Aus­tralia to protest against the inhu­mane man­dat­ory deten­tion of refugees in Aus­tralia in con­tra­ven­tion of our inter­na­tional oblig­a­tions. There were about 500 of…