Poems
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Distractions
By Liam FerneyI am hoping to kick a Facebook habit
but the monsters are scary and tomorrow
is too long to wait for an anxiety
as toxic as a tax the punters don't understand -
PHAEDRA HANGS OUT THE WASHING
By Kit Brookmanthe beauty of boys
in a morning-frost, white
skin running between white
sheets snagged by wooden -
Holiday
By Caitlin MalingPerth from above is a cockroach
It sits there, brown and laconic, and
The micrwave of summer can't shift it.
With its suburbs, like legs, twitching intermittently. -
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CLOSING TIME
By Sam MorleyI am closing my eyes, because I can’t see it in the dusk,
the poem that is already there.
I am hearing the closing time bickering of noisy miners -
Sleight of Hand
By Emily BittoThese are messages written in dirt
and rubbed away with a quick boot-sole –
even then, the fear of the trace,
the unerasable, the archive that cannot be destroyed – -
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Crossing the Hay Plains at Sunrise
By David Falconsky so coppery i can taste pennies
low lit by the sun
the plain stretches its rough gorse
to the edge of the world -
ON DEMENTIA
By Jessica L WilkinsonThe stoic pupils, the gaze—
The movement always moving of
objects mostly socks and teacups—
The kettle on the stove screaming— -
Things Overheard in a Dream, 12th April 2001
By Peter Boyle“Take me to the black woods mumma
and make believe we’ll boogy in the dark.”
In the late summer of anxiety -
Birds of Paradise
By Joel ScottLilac eruptions move upwards and
I can't help but think of us. This
is untraceable. Like moving backwards
by words in a phrase. On the return leg, -
Notes on the River 8
By Adam AitkenVoilà! Slums levelled, wharves, boat ramps,
central planning.
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Fetish Commodity
By Ali AlizadehI used to be brave. Emancipation
eludes me now. There’s nothing real
in what I get paid to do. Rhetoric -
Crush
By Kate LilleyWhen I say that history was my favourite
I’m thinking less of the Weimar Republic
or the militarisation of Japan
than Miss R’s contralto discipline -
3am
By Andy KissaneAlong High Street, the window in the white Cortina
right down, the air rushing in, my foot on the accelerator
beating time to the electric fizz of Johnny B. Goode,
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View from Hvolsvelli
By Corey WakelingThe frozen and the liquid. All its dialogue
in one white plume and one grey plume.
The corrugated vanity across Eyjafjallajökull's
mid-section is not rain-bearing cloud, but the old -
The Fan
By Craig BillinghamAre you a fan? the woman said
and then sat down.
I didn't know what she meant –
I imagined she was famous. -
The Argument
By Sam LangerIt is windy out there. Back
home an argument continues.
We could be swimming, eating,
going for a walk, pointing -
Holden HQ Wreck is Summers End
By Duncan Hosethe blue HQ @ Clifton Hill
like a warrior yes an octogenarian KRISNA
who’s dragged himself ashore from the river
tacho. punched in the dash, pink-drugged carpet -
Capital Limp
By Tom LeeIn the smooth
Drains they emerge
And in the sun, they put
His cars, and his houses, they
