The Lake
Judith Beveridge / Poetry

The Lake

At dusk she walks to the lake. On shore a few egrets are pinpointing themselves in the mud. Swallows gather the insect lint off the velvet reed-heads and fly up through the drapery of willows. It is still hot. Those clouds look like drawn-out lengths of wool untwilled by clippers. The egrets are poised now—moons … Continue reading

The Saffron Picker
Judith Beveridge / Poetry

The Saffron Picker

                   To produce one kilogram of saffron, it                    is necessary to pick 150,000 crocuses Soon, she’ll crouch again above each crocus, feel how the scales set by fate, by misfortune, are an awesome tonnage: a weight opposing time. Soon, the sun will transpose its shadows onto the faces of her children. She knows equations: how many … 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

Oscillations
Poetry / Toby Fitch

Oscillations

Attracted to all things electrical, you passed along the way like a weird       storm then returned, waxing lyrical about your adventures: the glow-            worms that lit up the tropics like guide-lights on a runway; dinosaurs               grumbling in their graves; the plethora of cats that scattered when                  you moonlighted as a monsoon. And what about those … Continue reading

Parallels
Poetry / Toby Fitch

Parallels

The intervals between trains are shrinking,             streetlights shaking —                         one or two blink out             with every repercussion. Planes fly lower and lower,             guard dogs whimper, and                         every so often             a seismograph flutters                         as if to warn us             that the orbits are out of whack,                         that waves rake the ocean floors and the hairs on the … 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

10:15 Saturday Night
Poetry / Stuart Barnes

10:15 Saturday Night

The oranges made a gorgeous, swollen pile. —Fiona McFarlane, The Night Guest 10:15 on a Saturday night: my housemate’s asleep, Tiger Coils roil an air wet as whelps (a bitch yelps), Mulder’s chest hair exposes itself like clockwork. Grindr trills       Bud what ya into      Familiar thrill. in general? in bed?       Whatevs HAHA proving his youth. I … Continue reading

Poet of the Month – February
Stuart Barnes

Poet of the Month – February

Stuart Barnes is a Tasmanian-born, Queensland-based poet whose writing appears in a variety of publications. He is Poetry Editor of Tincture Journal and Verity La. In 2014 he co-judged the ACT Publishing Awards’ poetry category and was named Runner-up in the Arts Queensland Thomas Shapcott Poetry Prize for an Unpublished Manuscript. He blogs at http://stuartabarnes.tumblr.com/Continue reading