Recent Poetry
Click where you dare.
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.
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
Gems Zine
that day
was the best. your sister was like my sister.
we ate pistachios and shucked the shells
into your foam roller.
Cordite Poetry Review
those were the best days.
pelting rain illuminating
the overcast pool. clouds
as bleak as that Christmas.
Consequence Forum
these days i’m in bed by 9pm.
the rain lashes our thirsting yard
until the dead grass drowns
into its second death and i’m asleep.
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.
