Paper and dust

Their shelves have always held mys­tery. Resist the urge to touch — cloth and paper and paint. I am close enough to breathe in Catullus and all his earthly urges, now sealed and almost eru­dite; So many spines here, leather and lust, dirt and...
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Numb in the whirlwind

I stand, arms out­stretched as everything i know whirls around me Smashed into drift­wood and debris by the tor­nado of cir­cum­stance They say justice is blind but I can’t help feel she’s blind­folded right now, Held to ransom as random injustice...
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Unspoken

Inspired by a Tumblr post I now can’t find… if you recog­nise the story, please con­tact me! There’s some­thing about scarlet cush­ions and 1940s jazz, Dark bars and tiny crystal gob­lets filled with cloying golden wine And a promise of...
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POETRY

Precious

Precious

These are moments that you treasure, just sit­ting of a sunset, Shoulder to shoulder as you remin­isce. And whether it’s Those memories of women’s decisions, the baby borne or the Journey halted, the intimacies and the viol­a­tions, or whether It’s gasping...

Raw

Raw

(With thanks and grat­itude to Robert Borden) 1. 2017 was a good year for fear, a good year for screaming Not like some other good Amer­ican years but it slid out of A year of celebrity death and tele­vised suf­fering that we were all Only too...

Trust

Trust

Step out with me — the rocks and the waves are calling and I have some­thing to show you. Step out with me — the ocean is singing to me, songs of spiral shells, seahorses, anemones and brine. Step out — you’re safe with me. It’s almost mid­summer,...

Taming the sea

Taming the sea

I My daughter is stretched out on white sand, feeding the ocean. She says she is taming the sea — its wild­ness nibbles at her fin­gers. We have seen no dol­phins today, nor any stin­grays nor whales nor any­thing bigger than spiky brown coral that has...

Words

Words

Rough-cut paper tells you it’s a first edi­tion and the must takes you back — Years spent, nose down. Ink-smudges and foun­tain nibs, the romance Of Umberto Eco and sharp-edged medi­eval scores. There’s a deep Con­nec­tion through time to these...

Stories

Time and love and magic on our side

Time and love and magic on our side

We may not win the battle, she says. And while there’s always fear, some­where down in the heart-sore depths of watching our chil­dren grow, there’s always fear that things can change in an eyeblink, that the wing-free light­ness of the trilling dan­cers of...

Place

Place

There used to be water in Cali­fornia; snow­melt rushing through rav­ines to coalesce laugh­ingly as lakes and lagoons and other summer indul­gences. That was long away and far ago, in some strange before time when the land wasn’t riven with cracks and the heat had...

The ravine

The ravine

Step off. Or not. It’s one of those decisions that hovers at your peri­pheral vision — are you ready? Wings unfurled at your back, that sen­sa­tion of almost-moistness lingering — will they hold? 

The trip to America…

In October, we went to the US on what Doug called the Tour de Harper. The timing was partly to make it to my cousin David’s wed­ding to the ever awe­some Rachel and partly to get in before Harper’s plane ticket actu­ally cost money. We ended up on nine planes in...

Seattle, home of grunge

Went to Seattle for a hand­fasting (friends of Doug’s). He took photos of the hand­fasting and all that jazz. I saved up my camera work for the next day when we went exploring the city and espe­cially the Exper­i­ence Music Pro­ject, which I’d first written...

Politics

Numb in the whirlwind

Numb in the whirlwind

I stand, arms out­stretched as everything i know whirls around me Smashed into drift­wood and debris by the tor­nado of cir­cum­stance They say justice is blind but I can’t help feel she’s blind­folded right now, Held to ransom as random injustice rains...

Raw

Raw

(With thanks and grat­itude to Robert Borden) 1. 2017 was a good year for fear, a good year for screaming Not like some other good Amer­ican years but it slid out of A year of celebrity death and tele­vised suf­fering that we were all Only too...

Place

Place

There used to be water in Cali­fornia; snow­melt rushing through rav­ines to coalesce laugh­ingly as lakes and lagoons and other summer indul­gences. That was long away and far ago, in some strange before time when the land wasn’t riven with cracks and the heat had...

And you are listening

It is 10.40pm in Paris and they have taken host­ages at the Bataclan It is 11pm and some­where on Face­book a kid posts: “they are killing every­body. one by one.” It is 4pm in Mel­bourne and my friend is giving birth to a little boy named Clancy but...

Another rape in cyberspace

The Char­lotte Dawson case, which has now res­ulted in her hos­pit­al­isa­tion, says a lot about the way that women are treated in social media spaces and the diver­gent tac­tics that are used to address the issue.