Nellie Seale20 February 2017
And as he hammered his father’s father’s words into the ground,
time seemed to slip into the distant horizon
and the ute, crushed in half, sank deeper into Eagle Creek.
the telly has given its verdict:
the world is too big to be contained in its chest
and it cannot find a colour for its own blood
so what else but spirited away?
. The streets are threatening. The world is safer all the time. All of life is dangerous to the touch, and every day, fewer men rot away. New government initiatives have reduced the number of plane crashes, children are regularly abducted from well-frequented public playgrounds and canned tomatoes are cheaper at the local supermarket. She rolls her neck—once, twice, three times if it matters, and it could very well matter. The wind, rolling off the sea, continues its surge and tide; the lilac and turquoise stripes above the storefront deform and misalign. A flutter—I think this is right—in the wind.
The centre of the universe is starting to combust.
Andie Moore on why the advent of marriage equality risks bringing the queer rights movement to a halt.
my body is nothing but ocean
and vivid black sky and i feel whole
she is somewhere floating behind me
solid and present while i am
nothing but liquid stars
she reaches for me and i sink into the womb
a relic that preceded the Anthropocene.
a ritual to dispel black invertebrates
Ninety per cent of graduating Arts students “just didn’t think this far ahead, honestly”, new Australian Bureau of Statistics data shows.
I meet Rose* at the place she can be found every Thursday morning, escaping the cold in her favourite campus café, laptop open next to a pint of coffee and bowl of edamame. She’s working on her Spanish. “I study languages,” she tells me. She speaks loudly and clearly, moving her lips like an actress; slightly dramatically – which she’ll admit – and often with a smile. “Spanish and Indonesian.”
a looming paternal voice holds grudgingly on my earlobe
There’s something curiously humble about the flask-shaped perfume bottle that holds Chanel No. 5. Surprisingly, it never seems to get drowned out by the noise made by more ostentatious designs (Davidoff, anyone?).
sometimes you have to cradle it
You know those times your grandparents start ranting about how everything was so incredibly superior back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth? Well this time, they might be right. The Zero Waste Movement harks back to the days before individually wrapped fruit slices and floating plastic lined our oceans, encouraging a lifestyle where as little as possible ends up in your bin.
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