In a kitchen in Brisbane three of us sit sharing tea and talking about dislocation how hard we find it to feel really here, to feel we belong. Each of us an unplanned baby. (An accident, or a surprise if you’re being nice.) Never felt that sense of unequivocal right-to-be, to take up space. … Continue reading
Leaving is like breaking something not a single crash smash on the floor but a long drawn out rugged exhausting tearing asunder God is in the details as I pick them apart The fine bones The hush I remember that first time unbidden I heard it, as I was outside walking with my cup … Continue reading
The dull chock of carrots, free-wheeling turmeric circles on the chopping board say I am home again. The creaking of the eaves against the retreating sky speak of cold windows, the eyelash-and-louse tobacco loose in the top-right-hand draw smells like my father’s office, half a world of time away. In the garden a lemon tree … Continue reading
Poem and Dish 