sharps (pot au feu)

i am sitting in a darkened cinema rolling a spiky metal ringup and down my fingerspressing in sharpto stop myself scratchingsigils into skin again it’s history          soup that has been simmeringthrough generations...

Drifting

It’s the weekend again and the rain lashes the windows.I’d had some thought of weeding the garden, but the windHas other ideas. These artificial distinctions we makeBetween workday and rest — we’ve been home for 63 daysAnd one blends into another. I could...
The 6th Great Extinction

The 6th Great Extinction

There are no platypus under the bridge again today. It’s the fourth week in a row and we all ask each other Instead of ‘hello’, “Seen any platypus?” — hopeful And each time, it’s “Not today… not for a while…” None of us know whether it’s...
Waves

Waves

A poem reflecting on the feminist work at WIRE I’m writing a letter to feminism: a love letter, A letter of longing, a letter of hope, A letter of rage, a letter of solidarity. There are echoes of us all through time, My fingers on these keys are at the same time...

Know-it-all

On the ascension of Scott Morrison to the Prime Ministership of Australia We’ve just swapped one psychopath for another, If we’re honest. It’s just that one wore the mask better. In truth, the challenge will always be that Father knows best, or thinks he does...
Beginner genie

Beginner genie

This is where you make your wishes after all, three sheets to the wind, thumb rubbing up the brown glassy condensation, wistful, dreaming of Kristobal or Mirabella or Carlos, in your bars and your nightclubs, sweat and grind, the neck of the bottle between long...