creative

Suffering and Drowning

When the memories flood through her skin
like milk – when you pour it into porridge,
Her world melts.

11 September 2018
I have a crush on e-girls: 2am poetry about Melbourne

Listening to X only after he’s dead
Capitalising on vintage Woolworths’ plastic bags
Remixing washed out lo-fi vinyls from Savers

11 September 2018
A Nihilistic Interpretation of Love

I took aim, and released.
Mushroom clouds snapped apart;
a wafer-thin crunch,
a child treading on dry leaves,
dust gliding aimlessly against light.

11 September 2018
trying to sleep

if a bear shits in the woods and no-one is around to hear it, then does a bear shit in the woods?
whatever the hell

11 September 2018
celestial bodies

she lies awake
legs spread wide
ready to birth a new star

11 September 2018
The Monster Myth

There’s a monster I’ve heard of
over the years
that appears in the place of corporeal men.

11 September 2018
The Mapless Voyage

Through cradle and gravel,
A truth to tell;
Mortal is lost,
Till last bell.

11 September 2018
You didn’t answer my question though and Kick Ons

You didn’t answer my question though     For my sins I live in Melbourne Where love is For all but Only A suggestion. Will These Failures   grow Meaning through repetition   ?   I keep seeing your face-painted concern, when I Spill my drink almost falling between your   Mismatched chairs.     […]

11 September 2018
My fantasy London and Archivism for No-places

At night, the streets—unlike any other city—are empty, but the repurposed Victorian gas-lights remain lit. They project onto the neo-classical architecture, the statues of Oxford circus, the garrets made of red brick, exaggerated angles/boundaries of shadow like the cabinet of Dr Caligari, or the fingers in F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu, edging around the columns and overly decorated facades like vines.

11 September 2018
Dusk

The light stains the tops of buildings
gold fish orange

11 September 2018
Older posts