Recent Poetry
Click where you dare.
I almost made this
another poem about swimming
but words aren’t always poems.
I turn to look out the window
but it’s dark outside and I’m faced
with my own reflection. It’s night
but the stars are hidden.
the sunken couch. I always thought
it could devour us whole, my cousin and me,
the dark blue depths the same colour
as the night sky, speckled with white bits of lint.
Island Magazine, Issue 168 & online
no one would be as fluent as us / swimmers. gliding through what we know as air, density augmented.
disintegrating photos
nobody ever looks for. catalogue of absence: my parents’
CD collection, dust-coated, should probably hold a garage sale
and see which of my old school friends show up, accidentally
takahē magazine
i remember the phone call: my dad’s boss
whose office i visited once a year as a kid
to deposit our annual Christmas gift.
i didn’t ask the questions then.
Meanjin Quarterly
the ram. April 20. just google it.
Мама used to say i was a Taurus
the way i tore off hunks of black bread.
i used to believe her but we didn’t live here then.
Voiceworks #125 Spectre
There’s a boy I swim with whose father just died of cancer,
a girl I coach whose mother passed the same way,
as well as the mother of my only remaining swim friend,
and an Olympian whose dad died too young.
Cordite Poetry Review
Vegemite on toast is what the locals eat around here.
not sure we can call ourselves that, with our lack
of pantry. a few shelves of Home Brand basics:
my childhood. sometimes news in the morning.
Cordite Poetry Review
those were the best days.
pelting rain illuminating
the overcast pool. clouds
as bleak as that Christmas.