"Please don’t ask if we’ve tried yoga”: Students fighting for disability support

Despite the University’s push to make learning accessible, through programs such as SEDS and Access Melbourne, there have yet to be endorsements from students that these programs are appropriate. Inst

Cinemas Buckle Under the Weight of the Netflix Empire

Will Hollywood blockbuster-type films continue to use Netflix as their outlet, or will they return to their rightful spot on the big screen?

Stop the Liberals, Join the Campaign against the Robert Menzies Institute!

The federal government, led by the Liberal Party, is bludgeoning universities. Since the onset of the pandemic, they have excluded thousands of university workers from JobKeeper, ramped up fees for se

Fangirls and Fantasies: Why we Love to Hate Twilight

It’s 2008: the era of galaxy-print leggings and Club Penguin. The radio incessantly plays Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’ and ‘Viva La Vida’ by Coldplay. Lounging on your bed after school, you flip thr

Petition Calls for Review of "Transphobic" Melbourne University Subject

(content warning: transphobia) A petition has been launched by the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) Queer Political Action Collective calling for the review of the second year Winter Philo



what a magnificent view

<p>Taking his place,<br /> I sat the first time, eager, in pain,<br /> numerous nurses cautioning me against<br /> curiosity, but all I saw out the window<br /> was a block of red bricks, a wall.</p>

we’re seeing the same things most
times, except when he gets to sit up
look out the window on his side of the room

I get to sit up every day at a specific time
so I get to use my spine enough before
I don’t have use for it anymore

the things he gets to do on his own
always has to do with the side of the room
I don’t know how to earn sides

I know he would die to be in my place, by the window, to see
strollers, trolleys,
human follies

there was a red-cloaked woman one day,
he said, light drizzling, baby in arms,
she takes the rain for her child,

we take the pain we can, if I sit up,
I get to see something other than the blank ceiling I reason
with every night,

another day he sees a barrage of people
bundling eggs and turnips and sugar pops
and leafy things, yellow fruits,

I will tell him anything if it means he will
listen, I talk myself out of my thoughts,
out of this futility, this indignation,

I sometimes forget people wear things
that are not white on their skin,
I sometimes forget wrinkles exist outside of

these walks of life I have not had the time
to live, nor the eyes to see,
nor the mouths to be

this emergency alarm button I can press
in the middle of the night when I hear him
gasping for breath – I know he is dying

but I didn’t expect it to be me
to be part of a hospital room duo
sometimes we are like room décor,
stale and sober in bolstered realities,
too long to sit up and see anything new
outside the window
I am running out of things to see
I am afraid he will find out

that I should have pressed the button but
I want so damn badly to sit up and look
out the window, if only to know life exists
outside this square sight
and I let him die but I can
remember his crusted sighs,
in between his reporting what he saw,
he had been so sure
I’d never dreamed it could be a perfect lie.

Taking his place,
I sat the first time, eager, in pain,
numerous nurses cautioning me against
curiosity, but all I saw out the window
was a block of red bricks, a wall.

a wall of non-existence,
non-entity, non-fantasy.

a neither monolith.

I think I miss his window.

Farrago's magazine cover - Edition Three 2021


Our final editions for the year are jam packed full of news, culture, photography, poetry, art, fiction and more...

Read online