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

Intact
Anne Walsh / Poetry

Intact

Visible in the wild wreck I am is the empire I was                                      My ruin is the most beautiful architecture                    Wreckage has made me dervish, an astonishing ravaged split log angel In the brown of my eyes pulled up, the Spanish doubloons                     of the autumn squash yellow of debris,                                                              the shock of stained glass intact after … Continue reading

Opera
Poetry / Stuart Cooke

Opera

After each voyage has crumbled into ephemera                                                                                                            I return to the house and its quay; I circle the edge before skittling                                                                                                      off to the suburbs. Come to me, I cry, crass plastic and screaming sail,                                                                                                                  shining, golden city slumped and seeping tune! This evening                                                                                            my heart’s emptier than a harbour. I gulp down … 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

PAPER WOMAN
Genevieve Osborne / Poetry

PAPER WOMAN

Selling news and scandal         jobs and dreams she sits beside and beyond the roar the ceaseless metal surge that streams in streets        morning and midday holding reams of newsprint in arms that imagined more than selling news and scandal        jobs and dreams drivers call or make a sign through windscreens are passed their pages … Continue reading