i love nature though i nearly drowned in it once new year’s eve 1993 bondi beach i wished i could’ve just stayed floating in the warm seawater all night that night like a forgotten lifebuoy instead of standing with a wet towel on my neck at the abandoned bus stop watching girls kissing strangers andContinue reading “de natura hominis”
no that’s not the way a story is told. when he stops he’ll think about things and then he won’t be able to think about anything smell the roses and the dung and the dharma bums his hand hot on her wrist running towards the lake silvery from the young moon that hangs in theContinue reading “Staid”
corncobs, i miss the smell of butter. streets, leave a heart-shaped sweat mark on her bum. ex-girlfriend, go away on a holiday to fiji. daydreams, scream, “fine!” heart, arse about. encounter, type words excitedly on new second-hand brother with the missing : key. susan, meet me this arvo on that hilltop. c’mon, ask me howContinue reading “Crumpler”
“Sepanjang malam, Pesta!” White wall long cracks like my grandmother’s hair No one needs a riot. like veins like dead snakes. The wind carries everything, my maid said.
under the fly-over: a policeman sits cross-legged on a thin bench balanced by two boys playing cards at the other end. sometimes, patience is just a game you play while you wait. and wait. then the black river starts. little ships of plastic aqua glasses float fast—all the captains had jumped the lifeboats—on its surface.Continue reading “Strikethrough”
it’s like this: outside ak.sa.ra. drizzle pavement a family of seasonal scavengers lebaran aqua glasses a balita girl in a peasant dress a conduit for the electricity of the earth a brown plastic makeshift roof the cart the traffic a sick-looking grey tree the storm
i stop. break the soft stem of the red flowers hanging over the toll road fence. red looks good on grey. i drink the juice that drips from the petals. my hand grey from the dust around the stem. i move on. gondoks grow like gothic ruffles on the swamp. children fish with thin bambooContinue reading “Ideas for Life”
not the puddle of black water your dunlop volleys fall into, not the cold wet between your toes for hours after you had forgotten it ever happened, not the lime green shirt-tail popping out of her olive green pants (everything else was in its right place, even the gradation of black in her hair), notContinue reading “Nots”