Mimic
Anne Walsh / Poetry

Mimic

The day tries to be                    as beautiful as you                                       How she mimics your eyes in the dawn                    How she dresses the wind in your soft T shirt How she laughs sideways at me                                                                               when I don’t hear what she says How she paints her doves with the same colour wingtips                                       How she escapes me © … Continue reading

Wolf Mountain
Anne Walsh

Wolf Mountain

I die every second                  in everyday places you catch                                   the light in my throat and lemon it so I can’t speak easy                  Make it moon light on the river of my chest                  Make it sing long as morning                                    on the slow spines of trees                                                                        green as Sunday school for lovers                   oh! I die many … Continue reading

Broome Beach Art
Poetry / Stuart Cooke

Broome Beach Art

do you know do you want to know my people? we’re the ones sitting the hairy legged gnomes sitting by the o cean paddocks sipping moisture from salty scars blee                                                 ding the in terminable drift sourcewards opens the wet eye so we can leave the bushy one c losed losen up read                   currents swells … Continue reading

Valleys
Poetry / Toby Fitch

Valleys

the                           hued emerald thickets of desire to                        lace fling themselves have a cold like                       at the vigilante this one? in the air                         doves i’the ask the developed world                       shade about life & ambitions suffer                        s punishment for being a lovely per son a weak friend this is not                       all a mass high-five or even                      people fatigue mum said rest                  dream of a in … Continue reading

On the Slink
Poetry / Toby Fitch

On the Slink

        Bottles in gutters, alley cats on the slink                  under streetlamps that crystallise         in the corners of my eyes — shopping trolleys gliding by                   like giant legless ice skates —           this brittle night taken out of the fridge —                   it’s spring but cold still,                           still as glass.                    Sobering up, a breeze … Continue reading

Athene Brama
Mark Tredinnick / Poetry

Athene Brama

                                Was there ever any way                                                                  This plump and comely assassin—                 Named for all knowing and unknowing—would not know how To meet all prying with a look both tender                                 And intense, both                 Peaceful and implacable, merciful and savage—sad,   Yes, but by no means sorry—                                                 Surprised but not unduly—                 Across the threshold of her forest lodge? … Continue reading