The Urgent

Pedestrian crossings beat as my heart.

7 June 2017
Rigging, Sunday 3pm

“They’re called barn doors,” she tells me.

Empty Empire

He looked down at the vast valley below him, at the tops of the trees that were smudged grey and purple in the fading light.


There will be another starry night.


Her message box is empty. She stares at the blinking cursor for a long time. Then she types: Poem for a Boy I Don’t Know.


we are a family of paper dolls


Do you think it’ll hurt?

Lilydale / Belgrave Line

a tin of sardines in suits

The Secret Lives of Fruits and Vegetables

A banana is prone to bumps and bruises.

No Toilet Paper for Dirty Men

There was a ‘toilet etiquette’ poster on the stall door, below the hook where he’d hung his holster and pistol. He would have used the poster, if it wasn’t covered in various colours of bubblegum.

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